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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



GLIMPSES OF THE EAST 

AND OTHER POEMS 



BY 
HENRY COOLIDGE ADAMS 




BOSTON 
SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 
1913 






II 



copybight, 1913 
Shxbmak, French & Company 



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ENVOY 

My pen to many dreaming thoughts gave birth. 
While strolling through enchanting spots on earth, 
Which show themselves on pages of this book; 
Then, too, some from the attic's secret nook 
Beneath the eaves of 'maginary store 
Are pictured here in tints of fancy's lore; 
And last are those from nature's wondrous bow'r 
Which speak in words of streams and scent of 

flow'r. 
Emboldened by the praise from friendship's lip 
I send them forth upon their maiden trip 
To sink or swim beneath the critic's eye. 
To seek the haven they have set so high. 
But come what may, my thanks are truly due 
To loving hearts and friendly cheer; and you. 
Sweet One, whose love has constantly sustained 
My shy attempts, and kept my hope maintained. 



CONTENTS 

LYRICS PAGE 

The One Hundred and Eightieth Meridian 1 

A Bit of Old Lace 2 

A Christmas Hymn 4 

The Glory of the Heavens 6 

A Southern Rose 7 

Sometimes 8 

My World 9 

The Passing of the Old Year .... 10 

A Journey 12 

My Rose 14 

Moonbeams 16 

Down on the Rocks 18 

Rambling Roses 19 

Good Night 20 

Lullaby 21 

My Room 22 

Sunbeams 24 

Evening by the Village Harbor ... 25 

The Birth of the New Year .... 26 

A Visit 28 

Absence 29 

Somehow 31 

Somewhere 33 

My Lullaby 34 

In Memoriam 35 

SONNETS 

Somebody 37 

Somewhat 38 



PAGE 

Something 39 

A Lovely Valley 40 

Oasis 41 

Faith and Truth 42 

Almost 43 

Yes ! 44 

The Cathedral of Milan 45 

The Life of Egypt 46 

A Thames Backwater 47 

A View from a Height 48 

A Touch of Color 49 

Rest 50 

A Vista 51 

Light in the Forest 52 

Undaunted 53 

A Moorland Sunrise 54 

Eden 55 

Mrs. N. B. W 56 

Silent Affection 57 

A Coveted Retreat 58 

Threads of Silver 59 

Angel of Love 60 

Shepherdess of the Hills 61 

The Sleeping River 62 

The Huntress of My Forest .... 63 

The Great Comforter 64 

The Light of the Wilderness .... 65 

A Place for Rest 66 

Lights and Shadows 67 

A Summer's Landscape 68 



PAGE 

Autumn Dreams 69 

"Isle of View" 70 

Sunset on the Moor 71 

Among the Clouds 72 

Refuge 73 

Remember? 74 

Parting 75 

The Reflection 76 

Tides 77 

The Harbor at Evening Tide .... 78 

The Wind among the Trees .... 79 

The Old Bridge 80 

The Blossomed Way 81 

The Broken Fence 82 

A Deserted Home 83 

The Old Mill 84. 

Giants of the Forest 85 

The Year's Twilight 86 

The Wall of Purpose 87 

The Pines 88 

The Birth and Course of the Stream . 89 

The Old Homestead 90 

The Light 91 

The Quiet Pool 92 

A Word of Gold 93 

Liquid Sunshine 94 

The Temple at Nikko 95 

The Grove at Iyeyasu 96 

Rome 97 



PAQE 

To Those Forgotten in Santa Croce, 

Florence 98 

Notre Dame de Paris 99 

The Touch of a Little Hand .... 100 

Mirage 101 

Afterglow 102 

A Lodestone 103 

The Channel Bell 104 

Secrets 105 

Intoxication 106 

My Bride 107 

Music at a Wagner Concert . . . .108 

Twins 109 

ALLEGORIES 

A Dream by the Wayside . . . . . 115 

A Night and a Day 141 

The Attainment 177 

TRAVELS 

Memories of Japan 203 

Glimpses of the East 224 

Ceylon: the Garden of Eden .... 241 
The Amber Palace of Jaipur .... 258 

Taj Mahal of Agra India 264 

A Dream of the Desert 266 

Dreams beside an English Roadside . . 275 



Hgrtra 



THE ONE HUNDREDTH AND 
EIGHTIETH MERIDIAN 

Far out at sea in mid-Pacific 

There lies a mystic zone, 
Amid the solitude terrific — 
Invisible — alone ! 

There Father Time a day is skipping ; 

Yea, from the hours sown ; 
And from his year a branch is snipping — 
Invisible — alone ! 

'Tis there the East and West give greeting 

Upon the Ocean blown, 
Embrace and kiss at their weird meeting — 
Invisible — alone ! 

There side by side dwell World's twin daughters 

( The width of all they own : 
Fair lands, and hills, and rolling waters) — 
Invisible — alone I 



m 



A BIT OF OLD LACE 

Once white as snow on hillside gleaming, 

Now through ages faded am ; 
Yet maidens say I am quite seeming, 

For through Time I lived and came. 

Through dainty fingers of a maiden 

Closed within a convent wall 
That in silence fast was laden 

I was bom, — became her all! 

She made of me a lovely fabric, 
Dainty, soft, with flowered sign ; 

Of tiny threads a wondrous cambric 
Figured through with blossoms fine. 

The day then came when I was wafted 

Hand to hand about the mart ; 
But all did say I was well crafted, 

And would suit some maiden's heart. 

I found myself on princely shoulders 

In an old-time royal court. 
Which now among the ages smolders, 

Past and gone, — which Time has bought ! 

Strange tales I could recite of doings 
'Mid the knights and ladies fair: 

Their secret glances, secret wooings — 
Some with meaning, some like air; 

m 



But Time is hard and ever passing, — 

Bore my princess to her end, 
And threw me on the world alassing, 

For I then had not a friend ! 

Because all thought I had no value, — 
Holes I had, and was some torn, — 

Although I was a princess' halo, 
Of all usefulness was shorn ! 

For tens of years I slumbered 

'Mid the blackness of a night : 
From hand to hand was passed and numbered 

E'er I once more saw the light ! 

I woke and found me almost priceless. 
And the world it, too, had changed. 

But filled as e'er with old-time niceness 
Which the years themselves had ranged. 

So from the old became the newest ; 

Fashioned in a wedding gown 
And recognized to be the truest 

Bit of lace a bride could crown ! 



[3] 



A CHRISTMAS HYMN 

Oh, hark! a joyous song! 

The angels' voices sweet 

Bid: "Shepherds rise and greet 

The Lord ; go kiss His feet." 
While again the happy chorus singing 
Fills the skies and o'er the hillside ringing, 

Brings peace to earth for long ; 

To God all glory high ; 

To man good-will brought nigh. 

Hosanna is the cry ! 

Behold a flame. His star, 

Above the mystic East, — 

A sign for sage and priest 

To join His birthday feast 
Spread before the shepherd's humble manger — 
Speechless beasts — in honor of One Stranger. 

Ablaze it shines afar. 

Fills the world with light. 

And rends the doubt of night. 

Hosanna, for this sight! 

To-day His star still glows 

In glory of pure gold, 

Reflected rays of old, 

Yet linger, — ^hearts enfold. 
Come ! make glad and follow up its leading. 
Give and take ; yea, heed all words of pleading. 
[4] 



His birthday comes and flows 
'Mid fun and laughter gay 
Along our common way. 
Hosanna, for this day ! 

And still the song of love 

Is heard from age to age, 

And ever brighter page 

Is turned for youth and sage ; 
Clad in all the wonders of rare luster, 
Comes with power of an army's muster, 

As sent from Him above, — 

Reflected from His face, 

The Christmas of our race. 

Hosanna, for His grace! 



[5] 



THE GLORY OF THE HEAVENS 

The glory of the heavens blue 

Reflected in thine eyes, 
Which shine with faith and love so true, 

A very paradise. 

The glory of the heavens bright 

Reflected in thy hair. 
Which shimmers, sparkles in its light. 

In golden beauty rare. 

The glory of a heaven's star 

Reflects but thee sweet one ; 
For thou are now and always are 

As bright as noonday sun. 

The glory of the heavens, dear. 

Reflects thy kindness sweet. 
And draws me to thee ever near 

And drives the moments fleet. 

The glory of the heavens came 

Right down to me one day ; 
'Twas when I first did speak thy name 

And heard thee mine once say. 

The glory of the heavens shine 

Through day and through the night. 

The sweetness of thy face divine 
Brings peace and comfort quite. 

[6] 



A SOUTHERN ROSE 

Among the northern breezes 
I found a Southern Rose, 

In sweetness lives and teases 
As sunlight comes and goes. 

Since then when wake or dreaming, 
I see my Southern Rose; 

And moments now are beaming 
With beauty of her blows. 

My heart beats fast with gladness, 
With thoughts of this sweet Rose ; 

She drives away all madness 
And leaves no room for woes. 

I love to watch and cherish 
My dainty Southern Rose; 

And pray she ne'er will perish. 
Nor suffer from her foes. 

I hope in days hereafter 

That I, my lovely Rose, 
Will bring her naught but laughter 

And help her as she grows. 

Oh, would that I were flower 
To dwell with thee, my Rose; 

Together form a bower 

Where happy brooklet flows. 

m 



' SOMETIMES 

Sometimes when one is alone, 
How sweet it is to draw the shade 
And see a scene that's quite one's own 
Upon one's mem'rj's canvas laid, 

Sometimes painted, stored away ; 
For yesterday seems long ago 
To-day, but still great joys convey 
As then, while incidents reflow. 

Sometimes is the sky o'ercast; 

From sea-bound rocks to grassy mead, 

Or hillside having wider range. 

Or country lane 'mid flowered weed. 

Sometimes is the sky o'er cast ; j 

Again the day has passed to rest ; '■ 

But always does the sunlight last — 
For me the sun knows not the west. 

Sometimes think I am in dreams. 

But there the face shines from its frame 

And crowned with thread like golden streams, 

The eyes, but sapphire gems of flame. 

Sometimes look at me so near 
They make me wish the picture real. 
I cry: "Canst tell me sometime, dear, 
If this be true, thyself reveal?" 
[8] 



MY WORLD 

The world is broad, and wide, and round, 
And filled with wondrous grace; 

The fairest that I there have found 
Is on my wife's fair face. 

For after all that's heard or seen, 
'Tis whispered thoughts of love 

That keep the verdure ever green 
And clear the sky above. 

The richest gem in manhood's crown 
Which rests o'er throne of life, 

That naught that comes can ever drown, 
Is love from his sweet wife. 



[9] 



THE PASSING OF THE OLD YEAR 
1912 

Lo ! how ancient, 

And yet how swift, 

From youth's uplift 

To age so patient 
He came ; ordained by Father Time to die, 
And only one short year did pass him by, — 

So young and yet so old. 

About to fade away 

Among the years untold, — 

A life that seemed a day. 

Lo! his story 

Is one great book, 

Like running brook, 

That makes one sorry 
To see the end before all work is done. 
Yet flowers came with splendor of the sun 

And passed beyond with Time, 

A wealth of harvest bom ; 

And he, but in his prime. 

Heeds not the coming dawn. 

Now the evening 
But comes unseen. 
With more to glean. 
From Future's weaving 

[10] 



still leaves the wonder of his passing light 
Undimmed, when he has vanished from our sight. 

The brightness of New Love 

Created in his Year, 

Will ever glow above 

And keep his mem'ry dear. 



[11] 



A JOURNEY 

Oh, hark ! a rumble and a roaring, 
A monster speeding by 
O'er hillside, plains, and valleys soaring. 
On going 'neath the sky ; 
Filled with human cargo, waking, sleeping: 
Hearts in gladness bound, and joys o'er- 

sweeping. 
Hearts by sorrow wounded — hopes now creep- 
ing: 
All onward bore with wings of swallow 

Along an iron rail. 
Above the river and the hollow ; 
All wrapped in dusty veil. 

Behold! upon the rolling water 

A vessel stands alone, — 
One stately, noble, ocean's daughter, 
A queen who holds her own. 
In herself a world on billows heaving. 
Filled with hearts of gladness at her leaving, 
Souls enraptured with her tossing, cleaving, 
'Mid the salted breezes dashing. 

Awash in rainbow spray ; 
Yea, ever wet with ocean's splashing. 
While the winds and waves e'er play. 



[12] 



And lo! the mystic Land of Dreaming 

Spread out before my sight. 
'Tis reached by train and shipboard steaming, 
This land of wondrous light. 
Western world then meets with eastern glowing; 
People, cities, strange, and flowers blowing, 
Set in frame of golden sunshine's showing, 
And filled with scenes to make one wonder. 

How glad because of this ! 
I paused and let my mind but ponder: 
Enthralling eyesight's kiss ! 



[13] 



MY ROSE 

One day when the sunbeams were playing, 

And blossoms were waving on high; 
Sweet voices were singing and calling, 

And calling their mates to draw nigh ; 
When breezes the flowers were swaying 

And bearing their incense afar; 
When insects are chirping and crawling. 

All voicing the joys that now are, 

I dozed, and while dozing was dreaming; 

I dreamed of a rose, oh, so fair! 
Which rambled along the stone fences, 

And blushed in the lovely spring air. 
Her breath was quite faint yet was teeming 

With fragrance of Nature's fair flower ; 
A joy to the eyes and the senses. 

While blooming through springtime's sweet 
hour. 

My rose but changed to a maiden, 

And waking I found it was true ; 
But still she continued her ramble — 

But 'twas o'er my heart she then grew. 
Her lips with sweet scent were still laden. 

The blush of the rose on her cheek ; 
She clung to my heart like a bramble 

With love that will last and will speak. 

[14] 



Her eyes were as bright as the moonbeams, 

Her voice like the rustling of leaf; 
Her song had the sweetness of curfew, 

And filled with a love past belief. 
My heart but reflected her love-beams ; 

My answer but echoes sincere ; 
My love, oh my love, how I love you. 

To me you are always most dear ! 



[15] 



MOONBEAMS | 

Last night as I sat by my window, 

Where once we two looked o'er the sea; 

The moonbeams were dancing and gleaming, 
And throwing their kisses at me. 

Last night as I sat by my window. 

And followed the moonbeams' white path 

That lay like a strip of bright carpet. 
The fairest the ocean e'en hath. 

I longed to pursue the white pathway 
To realms of the mystic unknown; 

And leading from mem'ry's enchantment. 
To goals of a hidden, sweet zone. 

I longed to pursue the white pathway 
That leads from the world to the moon ; 

To home of the fairest white lady. 
As pure as the lily at noon. 

It brought to my mind one past evening 
On rocks by the waves of the sea; 

When moonbeams were bright and I dreaming, 
And dreaming that I was with thee. 

It brought to my mind one past evening, 

I long for its coming once more ; 
'Twas brighter than sunbeams or moonbeams. 

For love-beams encircled me o'er. 
[16] 



Sweet sounds came a-roving on moonbeams, 
With scent from the rambling wild rose: 

The echo of hearts' dearest wishes, 
Resilvered by moonbeams' repose. 

Sweet sounds came a-roving on moonbeams. 
The whispers of voices most dear ; 

The echoes of love, oh I love you. 

And faithful will be through each year. 



[17] 



DOWN ON THE ROCKS 

Down on the rocks where the sea waves sigh, 
Down by the sea as the night draws nigh, 
Hark to the sound of the wild gull's cry ; 
Hark to the wind when the day will die ! 
Listen, listen, in the evening glow, 
Down, oh down, where the sea winds blow ; 
Are blowing, softly blowing. 

Down on the cliffs in the moonlight sheen, 
Down on the ledge where the tides careen ; 
Hark to the wash of the seaweed green: 
Hark to the moan of the sea between ! 
Listen, listen, to the ocean's woe, 
Down, oh down, where the currents flow, — 
Are flowing, swiftly flowing. 

Down on the rocks 'neath love's bright sky, 
Down with my sweet on the shore close by. 
Hark to the whispers of you and I, 
Hark to the love song of how and why ! 
Listen, listen, for whispers sweet, 
Down, oh down, with the moments fleet, — 
Are fleeting, swiftly fleeting. 



[18] 



RAMBLING ROSES 

Long are the days since the house was hid 

By seasons and reasons all one ; 
Trees and the vines have both smothered it quite, 

While sunbeams and moonbeams o'errun. 

Roses are climbing up on the walls, 
All creeping and sweeping o'er way ; 

Flowers are blooming all o'er the vines — 
Are blowing and growing so gay. 

Sweet are the breezes which waft from there. 
So fragrant and vagrant they grow ; 

Filled with the scent of the blossoms sweet, 
All heyday and playday they blow. 

Thoughts of the one that I love the best 

Are flowers and bowers to me. 
Sweet is the breath from the rose-like lips — 

No doubting or pouting from thee. 

Mem'ries of her are the rambling rose, 
Now spreading and threading so fair; — 

Clinging and wand'ring all o'er my heart, 
And hiding and guiding my care. 



[19] 



GOOD NIGHT 

At night within the garden walls 

One cannot see the flowers ; 
But yet their scent does cry: "We're here!" 

Through all the darkened hours. 

Behold ! the moon from clouds peeps out 

And makes the garden bright, 
Reveals the lily 'mid her green, 

While echoes ring, good night. 

I stoop, caress the petals sweet. 

The lovely face so white. 
The flowered likeness of my love, 

And murmur soft, good night ! 

Again the moon has hid her face 

And left the garden quite ; 
But still the flowers breathe forth scent 

While zephyr wafts, good night. 

And here beneath the starry sky. 
Embraced by friendship's might. 

Together we do stand in thought — 
Then kiss the lips good night. 



[20] 



LULLABY 

Good night, good night, my darling boy! 

Kind angels guard thy rest, 
As rocked, and soothed in home and love, 

And by such love art blessed. 

Good night, good night, my baby mine ! 

Thy mother's hand is nigh 
To shield and keep thee from all ill 

By aid from Him on high. 

Good night, good night, my blessed one! 

The sunbeam of our home 
Has filtered in to light our lives — 

Within our hearts will roam. 

Good night, good night, my little pet. 

Until another mom. 
Then by the light of golden sun 

I will my son adorn I 



[21] 



MY ROOM 

I SIT alone within four walls 
As twilight draws her shade ; 

And shadows fall on land and sea, 
When day his task has made. 

My thoughts take wing and fly away 
To form a pictured dream ; 

The lamp of love then lights the face 
I saw beside my stream. 

I sit alone and smoke and dream 
Within my four poor walls ; 

There in the cloud above my bowl 
I seem to hear thy calls. 

But, best of all, I feel thy touch. 
And taste thy kisses sweet. 

While gentle arms around my neck 
Make happiness complete. 

So, after all, my four poor walls 

Are richer for thy love ; 
And though alone, I'm glad to be 

Where thou hast been, my Dove ! 

I fondly long for day to come 
When I from dreams will wake; 

When sleeping pictures will come true, 
And loneliness forsake. 
[221 



No longer then I'll sit alone 
Within my four poor walls ; 

But side bj side we'll sit as one 
Within Love's golden halls. 



[23] 



SUNBEAMS 

The sunbeam found a crevice 

In wall of ancient bam ; 
And sunbeam lit the darkness, 

And brought forth truth from yam. 

The sunbeam chased the shadow 
And drove him far away ; 

Then sunbeam danced with pleasure 
Throughout the long-liv'd day. 

The sunbeam found another — 

It was in heart of man ; 
But sunbeam not of sunlight 

That spoiled this shadow's plan. 

This sunbeam comes from somewhere 
Beyond the great unknown ; 

Where sunbeams are but love-beams 
And shadows all dethrone. 

The love-beam seeks the heartaches 
That hide within the breast ; 

And love-beam brings true comfort 
To all who are depressed. 

My sunbeam and my love-beam 
Are found the two in one ; — 

Chased shadows 'way forever, 
And sadness, too, undone. 
[24] 



EVENING BY THE VILLAGE HARBOR 

Soft are the rays from the harbor lights, 
All gleaming and beaming so clearly, 

Mirrored in waters asleep at their feet 
And lapping the shipping most dearly. 

Moon and the stars in the heavens high, 

Inlaying the surface with silver, 
Add to the beauty of night's effect 

By forming a softened white river. 

Masts and the spars of many craft 
Are standing like sentries on duty ; 

Chimes from the steeple of village church 
Are borne o'er the harbor in beauty. 

Hark to the sounds as they come again! 

Recalling the scene of one evening: 
Dreams that we pictured together, dear, 

Reflected once more and in weaving. 

Peace and the rest of a summer's night 
Are moments of quiet with thee, dear ; 

Lit by the ray from thy love-beams bright, 
And tinted affections most sweet, dear! 



[25] 



THE BIRTH OF THE NEW YEAR 

Amid the snow-clad hills 

Before the homestead fires, 

The wheels of New Year's mills 

Now turn with new desires. 
These hardy folk fear not the coming battle, 
All rich in humble love, in fruit, and cattle 

Bequeathed by Old Year dead. 

Returns for labor paid 

Make life a softened bed. 

As for the Old they prayed. 

Oh, hark ! the roaring noise. 

The crowded city street: 

No sense of peaceful poise 

The birth of New Year greet. 
Amid the shouting, and the church bells ringing ; 
Glad cries which louder rise, with mighty 
singing; 

Around the tables bright 

With laughing, sparkling eyes, — 

The last of Old Year's night 

But lights the New Year's skies. 

Beneath the Southern Cross, 
Pacific's gentle swell, 
There comes the Old Year's loss 
To sound of vessel's bell. 

[26] 



When those afar from home send silent greeting ; 
Send love, with hope for coming meeting: 

In gladness for New Year, 

Forget the sorrow gone; 

Rejoice for all most dear 

In glory of New Dawn. 

When silent heart-beat's thought 

Is stirred by mem'ries sweet 

For what the Old Year brought. 

As now the New they meet. 
A rose-vine buds, brings forth a new-bom flower ; 
New beauty, strength but adds to Old Time's 
power ; 

A life with new found love 

On eve of New Year's Day 

But raises high above 

The old, now passing 'way. 



[27] 



A VISIT 

She came, she went ! 
A dew drop on a flower 

At night was sent, — 
Refreshing fairy shower. 

She came, she left! — 
A vision summer's dreaming 

Of love's sly theft. 
Forever happily beaming. 

She came, she passed ! 
A silver star in falling 

From heaven vast, — 
A flash her passing, calling. 

She came, she went! 
And now the sea is moaning 

In rocky tent, 
While stars look down, unknowing 

Once here, now gone ! 
Another clime her claiming. 

The visit done, 
Her name the wave's acclaiming. 

She came, she went! 
But left behind the mem'ry 

Of loving scent, — 
Sweet garlands bright of rev'ry. 

[28] 



ABSENCE 

What means this stillness creeping through my 

heart, 
These thoughts that set my mind on fire, and 

dart 
About among the mem'ries of the past, 
Like lightning 'mid the blackened thunder's 
blast? 
Absence from thy side, dear one, 

Turns my heart quite cold. 
Would I had not from thee flown 
Alone, thou heart of gold! 

Again I feel the emptiness of life. 
Once more I struggle in the fearful strife, — 
While destinies with happy hours play. 
In parting us and bearing me away. 
I thy presence sorely miss : 

Happy moments past. 
When I had thy lips to kiss. 
Oh, could they only last ! 

Again, again, I look upon thy face. 
Which looks at me from out thy framed em- 
brace. 
It cannot tell me what I wish to hear : 
"Dost thou love me, dost thou miss me, dear?" 



[29] 



Send these words my hours to cheer, 

Far apart from thee. 
My love thou hast ; so do not fear 

To tell me if this be 1 



fSOl 



SOMEHOW 

Somehow there's something lacking, 
Although the sun shines bright, 

As fire that is a-cracking, 
With warmth of its red light. 

Somehow the hours lingered. 
Where once they speeded fast. 

As slow as music fingered 
By one who would it last. 

Somehow my thoughts do wander 

To days not long ago, 
When every moment fonder 

And sweeter used to flow. 

Somehow I see the maiden 

I saw upon the rocks. 
Sweet-faced, with laughter laden ; 

Blue-eyed, with golden locks. 

Somehow my thoughts grow brighter 
With mem'ries of her face. 

Which grows and grows the lighter. 
And cheers my poor, dull place. 

Somehow I feel much better, 

Although I did her miss ; 
One look more sweet than letter, 

One instant lost in bliss. 
[31] 



Somehow I am still hoping 
The day will come again 

tVhen I, no longer moping, 
Will seek her not in vain. 

Somehow I now am wond'ring 
If she does care or what. 

She keeps me thinking, pond'ring- 
Canst tell me, dear, or not.? 



[32] 



SOMEWHERE 

Somewhere in this great, wide land 
One little corner lives and glows, 
Perhaps not larger than thy hand, 
But there the rose-bloom climbs and blows. 

Somewhere, somewhere, sleeps the nook 
Quite lost amid the noise of life 
That often drowns the song of brook 
By louder turmoil of one's strife. 

Somewhere lives this fair, sweet place ; 
I see the picture in my mind 
Which is reflected in thy face. 
Within thyself I did it find. 

Somewhere in those eyes so blue 

I saw the softness of its light. 

And felt the touch of friendship true — 

There breathed the scent of flowers bright. 

Somewhere hidden in my heart 
The echoes of its music sweet 
Resound with power to make me start. 
And it with fondest longings beat. 

Can we wander somewhere, dear ; 
To some retreat there cast our lot. 
Where joy will grow so sweet and near — 
Canst tell me somewhere, love, or not? 
[3S] 



MY LULLABY 

Hush, oh hush, my little one! 
In mother's arms now take thy sleep. 
E'en as the day has had its run 
Let now the sand-man softly creep. 
My lullaby, my lullaby ! 

Rocking, rocking, baby mine, 
As boughs and blossoms sway and sway 
Cradled thou in love divine. 
Sleep, oh sleep ! I watch and pray. 
My lullaby, my lullaby ! 

Come and gently touch these eyes, 
Thou angels of the heavenly host; 
Bind this life with rainbow skies ; 
Of him, of him, give care the most. 
My lullaby, my lullaby ! 

Gentle Saviour of all love 
Recall again Thy infant years. 
Give Thy presence to my dove, 
And keep from him all burning tears. 
My lullaby, my lullaby ! 



[34] 



IN MEMORIAM 

October 27, 1909 

The twilight of the year 

Is here, has come, has come ; 

And summers disappear 
Mid all the glory of their wondrous shades, 
While balmy breeze still lingers and pervades; 

Loth to leave, to leave. 

The twilight of the year 

Brings forth a star, a star ; 

Bright mem'ries of my dear 
Which softly glows above in autumn air, 
Reflects the beauty of her summer rare: 

'Twas, oh, so sweet, so sweet. 

The twilight of the year 

Is filled with love, lier love ; 

Yea, keeps her always near, 
Far richer, brighter, than the autumn vines. 
More lasting than the color of the pines : 

Ever green, e'er green. 

The twilight of the year. 

Lovely bright and light; 

Reflects her life most clear; 
Reveals her harvest, gathered fruits of gold. 
Now stored away; never will grow old: 

Will ever live, and live. 
[35] 



BantittB 



SOMEBODY 

Somebody's calling, softly calling thee 

Like whispers of the breeze among the boughs 

That gently sound their mystic murmured vows. 

Somebody echoes in a sweeter key 

The story old as the hills of inland sea ; 

But, oh, so new and sweet as fresh blown rose. 

Somebody caught the echo, somebody chose, 

And changed the world through words of one 

sweet plea 
To Eden, lit by golden lovebeams gay, 
With none therein save two in gladness wed. 
Somebody caught the glance from sapphire ray 
That touched the golden web which lies o'er- 

head; 
Somebody dreamed such happy dreams that 

day. 
While light of faith o'er somebody's face was 

spread. 



[37] 



SOMEWHAT 

At times when somewhat weary and forlorn, 
Bowed down with baffled hopes along Life's 

stream, 
I somewhat gladly turn from toil, and dream 
Of wooded pathways lit by early dawn 
Which run through fragrant brush and 

brambled thorn, 
Somewhat close to rapid flowing brook 
Where sunbeams wed the boughs in quiet nook ; 
There find my peace and for my worries mourn, 
And view my Eden, oh, so sweet and near. 
I know a path through woods of ever day. 
Somewhat like this, lit by love-light clear — 
Reflection of the heaven's azure ray. 
Thou art somewhat like this dell, my dear! 
Wilt thou take me, guide me o'er this way.^* 



[38] 



SOMETHING 

Something pierced the storm clouds overhead 

And broke the blackness of a dreary night, 

Something of a whitened silver light 

That made the ebon scene with brightness wed. 

Something like a silver lining spread 

Behind the inky mist and peeped o'er edge, 

Which proves that each black cloud owns silver 

ledge, 
That something lives, dispels the darkest dread. 
The moonlight in the sombre, cloud-clad sky ; 
The brilliant beam from lighthouse in the sea; 
But love-light does our life tide glorify \ 
Canst tell me something, Sweet? How glad 

I'd be; 
How swift my clouds would break before thy 

sigh! 
That little something. Love, means much to me. 



[39] 



A LOVELY VALLEY 

A SMILING, happy, highland vale lies spread 

Before my eyes beneath a summer sun. 

Its wooded hillsides, flowered fields, have won 

My love by reason of their beauty — led 

Me to forget my cares, while moments sped 

Within the precincts of its quiet spell 

As swift as drops from a bucket in a well, 

Wliich drew me closer to the past, and wed 

The recollections and the pictured dream 

Of happiness within another vale, 

Where we together drifted on Life's stream 

'Neath silver light and songs of nightingale; 

And, oh my dear, thy love indeed the beam 

That gave the softness to my cherished dale. 



[40] 



OASIS 

Waves without a sign of motion, lo, 

And waterless, that own no white capped crest, 

Upon the marvelous desert sea at rest, 

And clothed in many tints of Egypt's glow. 

Afar they roll away with row on row 

Of barren windswept hills and vales of sand, 

All filled with secrets of that mystic land 

Whence ancient knowledge long will ever flow. 

Amid the waste a little garden springs. 

With fountains, palms, and grasses sweet of 

scent — 
Such beauty as your presence always brings ; 
Your touch transformed the whole and rent 
The billows of my every day with wings 
Of faith. Oasis came with your advent ! 



[41] 



FAITH AND TRUTH 

Upon a scrap of paper lines are drawn, 
Conception from the depths of human thought, 
And then to the marvels of construction brought 
By strangers' hands, through faith in plan thus 

bom 
With trust in this idea; and he, a pawn 
Upon the chess board of the universe, 
Becomes a queen — his foes' defense trans- 
pierce — 
Or sun which sinks to rest, awakes as dawn. 
Beyond this mere prosaic form of faith 
There shines the glory of a woman's love. 
Built on truth, enduring to the death. 
Thine eyes, dear One, with softness of a dove ; 
Thy face, with sweetness of the flowers' breath, 
Reflect this gift divine from Him above. 



[42] 



ALMOST 

In almost perfect beauty, yet not quite, 
The stream has paused, is resting from its flow. 
The silent waters sleep 'neath summer's glow 
Where branches almost kiss the flowers bright. 
And sunbeams clothe the nook in gold and white. 
'Tis hidden from the noisy world — alone ! 
So fair yet lacks the fragrant love-bloom's tone. 
Without this touch a paradise is night, 
Or garden bow'r without its climbing rose — 
But almost perfect 'mid its beauty rare. 
I've found a nook in life which overflows 
With heaven's sapphire glow and golden flare; 
And, lo, my dear, the love-vine almost blows ! 
Let's drift together and find our resting there. 



[43] 



YES! 

I DREAMED a dream, my dream was all of thee : 
Together, love, we drifted o'er life's tides. 
Our boat all filled with flowers gently glides 
And lightly skims our bright and happy sea 
Through days and nights made glorious for me 
Reclining at thy feet. And lo, the blue 
Of heavens and the sea reflected true 
Within thine eyes ; ah, filled with love-light free, 
Illumed thy face with beauty of its ray. 
The boat was built from one small word — one 

yes! 
But, oh, so staunch, and fair as roses gay. 
Yea, softly wafted on by love's caress, 
'Mid flowered banks and music o'er the way. 
Drew homeward — home of rest and happiness. 



[44] 



THE CATHEDRAL OF MILAN 

Thou wondrous fabric reaching to the sky ! 
Thy lace-like pattern, gleaming in the light, 
Shines like silver 'neath the Queen of Night. 
Thy marbled pinnacles do tow'r on high 
Around the Virgin, who doth glorify 
Thy Church in richness of her golden dress. 
Some fifty columns do one's eyes impress, 
Which hold thy roof, and with each other vie 
In beauty of their sculptured capitols. 
The wonders of thy colored window panes 
Diffuse the varied tints upon thy walls. 
Bright candles glow like stars in shadowed fanes 
Or sacred shrines before thy choir stalls : 
And all thy splendor for me never wanes ! 



[45] 



THE LIFE OF EGYPT 

Thou land of wonder, filled with mysteries deep, 
Whose desert sands, when washed by River Nile, 
Then make thy barren land with verdure smile, 
And hold all Egypt's life within their keep 
To-day as in the centuries now asleep — 
Art still our teacher, — aye, in many things, — 
But more, perhaps, thy sacred river brings 
To mind, by reason of its constant sweep. 
The ever faithful flow of woman's love. 
Without this stream our lives would deserts be ; 
But at its touch the flowers bloom above 
And lovely bowers build on sandy sea, 
'Mid whispers soft like cooings of a dove; 
My dear, thy love has brought all this to me. 



[46] 



A THAMES BACKWATER 

The charm of rest and sweet repose is spread 
Abroad and makes this nook a paradise, 
A very feast for tired, toil-worn eyes, 
Where waters of the Thames have left their bed 
And with the flowered meadows then have wed ; 
Where trees in gladness raise and sway their 

boughs 
And wath the playful sunbeams whisper vows, 
While 3^onder ancient tow'r raised its head 
Toward the vaulted blue above in pride. 
Thither in a little boat I steal, 
And lose myself, as borne on thoughts I glide 
To happy realms beyond, and there I feel 
The sunshine of thy love and touch thy side, 
And there in dreams our future joys we seal. 



[47] 



A VIEW FROM A HEIGHT 

Dreaming where the glory of God's hand 
Has touched the land with wonders of his love, 
Creating vales below and hills above, 
Inserting gems, the lakes and streams, on land; 
The emerald of the verdure, brown of sand; 
Fleecy clouds 'mid sapphire blue of sky. 
Combined with tints abounding far and nigh, 
Which smiles 'neath golden sun at His command, 
Yet sleeps below yon hill in beauty rare. 
I see another picture He has made. 
Which rises 'bove the vale of Life's fair stream : 
Within the gallery of my mind 'tis laid 
Away, where I can look whene'er I dream — 
The beauty of thy love will never fade. 



[48] 



A TOUCH OF COLOR 

The lovely beauty of a winter's night 

Has thrown its charm o'er snowclad land and 

stream. 
The whitened coverlet reflects the beam 
From heaven's gems on tiny crystals bright 
And turns the darkness into silvered light. 
The ruddy glow on yonder window pane 
Is not unlike a touch of ruby's stain 
To diamond diadem of monarch's might, 
And gives a touch of color to winter's scene. 
The cheer reflected from the homestead fire 
Is quite the same as woman's love serene 
Upon Life's landscape. Yea, a wire 
Charged with dearest love and faithful mien — 
Thy presence, dear, is my one great desire. 



[49] 



REST 

At noonday tide the deer then seek their rest, 
In cahn repose they group 'neath forest trees, 
Except the king; erect he stands to see 
Or scent some danger threat'ning to his best. 
He then the signal gives to gain yon crest. 
The sunlight creeping through the matted 

boughs 
Lends shaded golden light to whispered vows 
And creeps with waning da}^ toward the west. 
With here and there a leap and waving dart, 
As leaves are stirred by gentle summer wind. 
It is a scene from Nature's home in part. 
Of some who gather fondly with their kind. 
And speak with eyes, hide laughter in the 

heart — 
Like thoughts of thee, my dear, which fill my 

mind. 



[50] 



A VISTA 

Sweet, simple beauty crowns yon country side; 
Flickering sunlight is the precious stone 
Inserted in the emerald verdure grown 
In rich profusion o'er the landscape wide, 
While groves of trees there raise their heads in 

pride 
And through the branches lovely vista gives 
Upon a little silver lake which lives 
Quite buried from the world, yea, beautified. 
I know a spot on landscape of my life 
Which opens to my mind a scene like this ; 
It too is lost to worldly noise and strife, 
But yet reflects the earthly glow of bliss 
And beams with love that makes the moments 

rife — 
Thy memory dear, but touch of lover's kiss. 



[51] 



LIGHT IN THE FOREST 

Yea, dark are shadows in the forest deep, 
Where woodland giants, huge of girth, have seen 
The centuries travel by, and they yet green 
Remain upright, robust, and still as sleep ; 
But falling leaves for all the seasons weep. 
While golden beams by day, and silver night 
Dispel all gloom by glory of their light. 
Which through the limbs of wooded heroes 

creep. 
Then gently kiss the ground beneath their feet. 
I see a phantom forest just like this; 
'Tis filled wath Faith and Hope: these trees I 

meet; 
While Love-beams touch their boughs with 

softened kiss. 
And drive away all shade with happy beat — 
Ah, life within thy love, my dear, is bliss. 



[62] 



UNDAUNTED 

The children of the great wild desert sea 

Who e'en to-day are dressed as yesterday's 

Seven thousand years, with speech and ways 

The same, and inborn love for life all free ; 

Devotion to a cause they think to be 

The only one, infallible, supreme ; 

Exult in death to realize their dream — 

Are not unlike, perhaps, to you and me, 

Provided we believe our cause is true 

And worthy of a fight, the striving for. 

The smart of wounds, the desert thirst they 

knew; 
And 3'ou and I as well, — perhaps the more 
As days roll on. The seed of freedom grew 
In us as fierce as in those men of yore. 



[53] 



A MOORLAND SUNRISE 

The wondrous glory of the new-bom day 
Has tinted highland moor and mist in sky 
In lovely colors, while dark mountains high 
Loom up in grayish tint along the way. 
The fragrant heather, aided by the play 
Of gentle zephyrs, shook the mountain dew 
From blossomed heads, and smiling welcome 

threw 
To Dawn, as he sends forth his golden ray 
To wake the world with sunbeams' cheerful 

light. 
Then heart -beats stir anew with gladdened glee ; 
Forgotten are the darkened hours of night 
Amid the happiness which we now see. 
Yea, I am glad ; the dawn of love is quite 
As brilliant, dear, and glows for you and me. 



[64] 



EDEN 

Beneath the canopy of heaven's blue 

And dreaming through the glorious days of 

spring, 
A little sheet of water sleeps: a thing 
Of beauty set among the hills that grew 
With grassy slopes adorned with groves of yew, 
Rising up like stairs on landscape's stage 
About its shores on either hand. A page 
From Nature's picture book, but fair and true, 
And painted in her tints of wondrous blend. 
A lovely spot in which to pause and rest. 
Free from care, there dwell with one dear friend. 
Where days as minutes glide away thus blessed 
To join the past; but I am glad to spend 
My Eden where thy love has made the nest. 



[55] 



MRS. N. B. W. 

How can a person be without a theme 
Who knows you, Princess of my little spree? 
'Twas but a yesterday at noon when we 
Did meet, and ever since I've lived in dream 
Of recollection o'er this happy stream 
Which met the waters of my every day, 
And formed a pool of rest as glad as May ; 
O'er which the moments darted like a gleam 
Of sunshine, bright as what your presence 

brought 
Into my olden days of forest night. 
Lo, of disappointment there was naught ! 
And only mem'ry of thy charm, to light 
This happy hour; 'twill long remain a thought, 
As moonbeams ling'ring tint the waters white. 



[56] 



SILENT AFFECTION 

Arise ! For Dawn has lit the lamp of day. 
Behold the glory of the eastern sky, 
While echoes of the landscape's wak'ning sigh 
Sound far away, as summer winds at play. 
Lowing cattle slowly take their way 
To brook side silvered waters, gliding by 
Yon planted hillside's shaggy grass, grown high. 
In pairs they come to drink the flowing spray 
And mutely praise the Giver of all things. 
Beauty of love divine has touched the wild. 
Though dumb, perhaps, their look and action 

rings 
With fond affection in a manner mild. 
If this sweet sense to Nature's children clings 
Much more, my dear, shall ours be undefiled. 



[57] 



A COVETED RETREAT 

Among the apiaries of all mankind 

Where countless humming swarms do toil and 

strive 
All day in bringing honey to the hive, 
How few recall such scenes as this to mind ; 
Or by the lust of gain their eyes made blind 
To God's own peaceful country, fair and sweet ; 
Or wonders of fair Nature's glad retreat 
That basks beneath the sun, and air refined. 
Amid the hills and flowered meadows bright. 
And where the drooping boughs and brooklet 

kiss ; 
Where browsing cattle pause in fancied fright — 
My dear, with thee in some such place as this 
To steal away alone, one summer's night, 
And rest, would be to me all earthly bliss. 



[58] 



THREADS OF SILVER 

I STOOD upon yon peak ; from there surveyed 
The wonders of God's hand that lay below 
Asleep but smiling in the summer glow, 
A landscape fair, in miniature displayed: 
With specks for trees and buildings, like inlaid 
Little toys on velvet cloth of green ; 
While rivulets of silver thread were seen 
In loveliness unconsciously betrayed. 
They lit the picture as a mirrored room 
Reflects the lamplight and the faces fair. 
I turned to view the beauty of life's bloom 
And saw the silver threads which glittered rare. 
Inwoven in Life's landscape by Fate's loom ; 
My dear, thy love did shine the brightest there. 



[59] 



ANGEL OF LOVE 

Upon yon hillside, sleeping 'neath the sky 

In sun-light, star-light, driving storms, all 

through 
The seasons walks the Angel of the ewe. 
She guards the flock while thej^ their grazing 

ply 

And seeks the lamb that's lost both far and nigh ; 
She soothes its bleating with caressing arm ; 
Her look the promise of no further harm 
Great comfort gives, and stills the mother's cry. 
A flock of sheep are we upon the hill: 
And Love the guardian Angel, oh, so near, 
Who ever lives and walks with footsteps still ; 
Who guards our happiness through day and 

year — 
Yea: and thou, my dear, thy heart-beats fill 
My life with joy — thy love my Angel dear. 



[60] 



SHEPHERDESS OF THE HILLS 

Guardian of the flocks upon the hills, 
Alone with bleating lambs and thy own thought 
And wonders which the hand of God hath 

wrought, 
With simple faith and love so true it fills 
Thy days with beauty, yea, as flowing rills 
Do light the vale with gleaming strips of white. 
Thy watchful care o'er creatures weak and slight 
Reflects what greater guardianship fulfills. 
So every one who dwells upon Life's range 
Need have no fear, for watch and ward is set 
And kept by Love and Hope without a change. 
They drive away the wolves of care, and yet 
Are never daunted. Dearest, is it strange 
I came to think thy love my parapet.? 



[611 



THE SLEEPING RIVER 

Dreaming through a summer's noon-day tide, 

I see a mighty stream with scarce a flow 

And seemingly quite still beneath the glow 

Asleep, with ripless waters, broad and wide. 

Inverted pictures show themselves in pride 

Within its glossy mirror, silvery white. 

All so still as on a summer's night ; 

Or blissful hours which toward the future glide. 

Among reflected pictures of the past 

There's one just like this lovely quiet stream 

In which a loving likeness there is cast. 

Thy eyes, like mirrored stars, in softness gleam ; 

Thy loving mem'ry, dear, will e'er outlast 

A twilight's beauty, and be my constant dream. 



[62] 



THE HUNTRESS OF MY FOREST 

Dreaming when spring-time's touch is on the 

wild, 
I see a wood-bound brooklet tumbling down 
The mountain, over rocks and logs of brown, 
With song, and bright cascade, and spray that 

smiled 
When kissed by sunbeams born of heaven's child, 
Whose dancing ray then lit the budding leaf 
And bound the forest in a glitt'ring sheaf. 
Leaving the whole in wondrous beauty piled. 
Again I have a paradise in view, — 
If anything more fair than this I've shown. 
The lovely lights and tints, — my dear, 'tis you, 
The fairest woodland which I hope I own. 
Thou the huntress aiming sure and true 
Hast caught my heart, which at thy feet lies 

prone. 



[63] 



THE GREAT COMFORTER 

The fondest memories crowd o'er me, 
Bom of past events that lived a year 
Ago, but seem like yesterday so near 
Are they. Oh, happy moments, all so free 
And filled with life, forgotten ne'er will be. 
But sorrow came and killed the joy of love; 
At one fell blow the bolt dropped from above 
While sunshine shone the brightest one could 

see; 
And in my grief I turned to one kind Friend 
Who always lives above the heavens high. 
His promise is that love shall never end. 
I placed my trust in Him without a why: 
To-day in gratitude my head I bend 
Because thy love, my dear, is ever nigh. 



[64] 



THE LIGHT OF THE WILDERNESS 

What mystic instinct, floating through the air 
When summer days are bom and growing fast, 
When we from daily toil do wake at last 
And sniff the wind as hound in chase of hare, — 
It is the call to seek wild Nature's lair; 
To fish or hunt the game within their home. 
Or on some wood-bound lake to softly roam 
Beneath the rising sun, or twilight fair, 
And dream our worldly cares are at an end — 
Yea, dwell in God's fair land without a fear. 
And, oh, my dear, the splendor which you send 
But beautifies my wilderness, both far and near; 
Thy love the sunlight makes my whole world 

blend ; 
And grows in strength each day and year by 

year. 



[66] 



A PLACE FOR REST 

If one should pause amid his task and look, 
Or search the forest lying at his door, 
He would surely find a sheltered floor 
Screened from the world, where gentle breezes 

shook 
In em'rald clusters on his quiet nook 
The leaves, from thickly matted trees above. 
With which the summer sunbeams play and 

love ; 
The silence broken only by a brook 
Whose music sings the secrets of the wood. 
This place of mine lives in the wilds of thought: 
Thy mem'ry, dear, the sunlight on the bud; 
Thy love, so sweet and fond, the shelter 

wrought ; 
And in an instant I can reach it, should 
I wish ; and lo, the rest which thou hast 

brought. 



[66] 



LIGHTS AND SHADOWS 

Amid the forest fastness still and deep 

The lights and shadows play with swaying 

boughs, 
And rustling leaves, which murmur wedding 

vows; 
O'er hill and dale and wooded trail they creep. 
And silently they make a flick'ring leap, 
Now here, now there, o'er bush and ground and 

stone. 
With laughter gay, withal a noiseless tone. 
That wakens not the woodlands from their sleep. 
Yea, so they play between the stone and stick 
Scattered through this wilderness of ours. 
And even there the lights and shadows lick 
The underbrush surrounding many bowers ; 
But, oh my dear, where'er thy love-beams prick 
The shade, then all is bright as fairest flower. 



[671 



A SUMMER'S LANDSCAPE 

Smiling 'neath a lovely summer's sky 

The landscape rests, yet rolls away 

Into the distance, just like waves at play. 

'Tis crowned with clumps of trees, some far, 

some nigh 
Who listen, listen, to sounds that whisper, sigh, 
As gentle breezes stir their leaves with song; 
And brooklets, threads of silver, wind along 
'Mid richly waving grain, and flowers high. 
Pastures filled with herds of lowing cattle 
Grazing or asleep in calm repose, 
And far removed from scenes of strife and 

battle. 
Yea, the sweetness of this summer doze 
Is equalled only by thy whispered prattle — 
Thy mem'ry, dearest, by the wild blown rose. 



[68] 



AUTUMN DREAMS 

Dreaming through the summer's dying day, 
I hear the voices of the autumn wind 
Retelling whispered secrets of my kind 
To tinted silver birches 'long the way, 
And shim'ring, fallen colored leaves at play, 
Pictured reveries of the road among 
The trees, with glimpse of river, flowing tongue 
Of silvered thread in landscape's floor inlay. 
While glory of the autumn sun o'erspreads 
And bathes the whole with splendor of its light. 
Again a change, awakening mem'ries shed 
A glow of radiance o'er my slumber quite; 
Pictured dreams of thee and me are wed 
Together, dear, in sun and love beams bright. 



[69] 



"ISLE OF VIEW" 

What loving fancy can in letters hide 
And meaning sweet expressed in "Isle of View," 
Which lies before my eyes In sea of blue 
Amidst the rolling ocean broad and wide, 
O'er whose bosom white-winged boats do glide 
Like albatross when gliding on their prey 
Where South Sea Islands loom like storm-clouds 

gray. 
This island scene your little hand supplied. 
The drawing caught my eye but yesterday, 
While fondest recollections came and grew 
Of those days when we looked o'er the way 
Together, dear, through hours the best I knew ; 
They will live and last, defy decay, 
As will my echo, sweet, of I love you. 



[70] 



SUNSET ON THE MOOR 

Dreaming while sunset's blush is on the sky, 
I see the moorlands slumb'ring, bathed in gold; 
And heather, fragrant dressed in purple bold, 
Enchanting, dainty, by the brooklet nigh 
As it flows on without a rippling cry, 
Dozing 'neath the evening's brilliant ray. 
While trees, those silent sentinel guards, sway 
As peaceful twilight hour steals softly by 
Amid the stillness of the breathless air. 
Again o'er moorlands that in mind appear 
A sunset comes a glowing just as fair. 
And meets the twilight of a mem'ry dear. 
Oh, 'tis of thee, my Own, when Time did bear 
Thee far, thy loving thoughts e'er soothe and 
cheer. 



[71] 



AMONG THE CLOUDS 

When fancy takes to wing and soars on high, 
It is quite often lost within a cloud 
Of thought, like some rough and rugged moun- 
tain proud 
Of its proximity to vaulted sky. 
And there in solitude, with nothing nigh. 
It lives in dreamland o'er the scenes below; 
And what they see there spread abroad they 

know. 
And hold secure the secrets they espy. 
Yea, now I rest on summit of my thought, 
Among the banks of mist from former days, 
And look o'er valley of the past thus brought 
In view before my eyes, which now betrays 
One little secret that they there have caught ; 
It is of thee, my dear, thy winning ways. 



[721 



REFUGE 

Sunrise came and found the ocean still; 
Both sea and sky oppressed by clouds, were dead, 
And waveless waters kissed the rocky head 
In silence, awesome, — which foretold a shrill. 
North-eastern storm would strike, and so fulfill 
The omen weird, and lash the sea to foam ; 
A warning gives that all may run for home 
And there remain in comfort, safely, till 
The storm is over, and the sea gone down. 
At any time how dear to have a place 
Of refuge, calm and far from storm's worst 

frown; 
With lamp-light, blazing fire, and one sweet 

face: 
It matters not how humble is the crown — 
My shelter, dear, lies in thy love and grace. 



[73] 



REMEMBER? 

To-day dost thou remember this old road 
Along which we together used to tread 
By day, and then beneath the moonbeams shed? 
It ran along the cliffs where sea winds blowed; 
Beneath their crests the currents ebbed and 

flowed, 
While ocean laughed or sighed as case might be, 
Or as the sunlight played, or clouds flew free? 
And now to-night it rolls with heavy load 
And echoes but the feelings in my heart. 
The sunbeam of my road has gone away ; 
It came a joy and passing left a smart; 
And so the road is dark as sunless day 
Because stern Time has willed she must depart; 
But dawn will bring the beams once more to 

play. 



[74] 



PARTING 

One eve a ship went sailing out to sea, 
Out on the waters wild and mighty deep 
As twilight shade was 'bout to close in sleep. 
She bore my loving heart away from me ; 
My eyes were filled with tears ; I could not see 
Her fade, and vanish in the distant mist ; 
But blinded as I was, my hand I kissed 
And waved farewell, and let my love fly free 
To follow after as a bird on wing. 
One must at times a parting guest God-speed; 
But what a pang of sorrow it does bring 
To hearts together bound in friendship's creed. 
But, oh my dear, the joys that we did ring 
Through those short days to future joy will 
lead. 



[76] 



THE REFLECTION 

How very still and peaceful flows the stream 

Which seems to lie asleep in quiet poise 

And far removed from sounds and j arring noise. 

It lies so still and silent in its dream 

While sun-beams on its waters play and gleam, 

And with its laziness much mischief scheme. 

The objects dwelling by its side are vain, 

Because inverted likeness they esteem 

While gazing softly on each face 

Reflected in the mirror Nature made ; 

And oh, my dear, thy message found its place. 

Reflected in its lines thy loving aid, 

And holds my stream in silent sweet embrace. 

No future darkness can its beauty fade. 



[76] 



TIDES 

That mystic change in ocean's mighty deep, 
When waters come and then again they flow 
To whence? No man can tell and yet they go 
Unseen and swiftly, as one falls asleep. 
Those hidden rocks then once again do peep 
Above the waves, and show their weed-grown 

heads 
Which fondly kiss, and with the sun-beam weds ; 
While ripples gently round their feet still creep 
And echo murmurs of their wedding song. 
And so it is with us, perhaps the more 
Than we do know, as tides of time ebb 'long. 
Disclosing to our sight a hidden shore 
To which our fancy clings, and weds most 

strong, 
Revealing joy far greater than before. 



FTTl 



THE HARBOR AT EVENING TIDE 

Does this fair scene recall to mind a dream 
Through which we lived one happy summer's 

eve? 
Unconsciously a web we spin and weave. 
'Tis like the colored harbor lights which gleam 
'Mid spars of many boats, which stand and seem 
Like silent, ghostly sentries dressed in robes 
Of sheen from silvered rays of planet globes, 
And wondrous glory of the moon's soft beam; 
While ripples gently splash on stones and sing, 
And bring with them the chimes of distant bell — 
Evening curfew from the village churches ring. 
The scene of mystic beauty casts its spell 
As mem'rles of the love and faith you bring, 
My dear, to charm and hold my citadel. 



[78] 



THE WIND AMONG THE TREES 

'Tis but a little bit of countryside 
That sleeps quite distant from the great high- 
way, 
And dozes all alone through summer's day, 
Embracing flowered meadows fair and wide, 
And noble trees extend skyward in pride ; 
While little brooklet rambles through the vale 
And with its merry song my ears regale. 
Refreshing breeze, which through the branches 

sighed 
And stirred the leaves with whispers from afar. 
Then brings, perhaps, a message from my dear 
A long way off, but in my heart a star. 
And so I love the rustling leaves to hear, 
And try to understand the words which are 
But echoes of her love for me brought near. 



[79] 



THE OLD BRIDGE 

The stream flows gently 'mid the fading light 
When autumn's touch has tinted grass and tree, 
And breezes stir the berried brake a wee; 
Their rustling whispers scarcely heard aright 
Now softly sing of summer's past delight. 
From shore to shore 'tis spanned by bridge of 

stone, 
Above the waters placed a granite crown, 
And on its crest a way is hid from sight; 
The entrance found and you can cross the same. 
Oh, seek a bridge across your own life's stream ; 
One built of stone from Hopeful quarries came; 
That spans the shore of doubt to one of gleam 
Which leads to golden glow of mortal fame, 
And love and joy of which you fondly dream. 



[80] 



THE BLOSSOMED WAY 

See yonder country road now takes a bend, 
And then runs straight amid the blossoms sweet. 
Although the ruts remain beneath the feet, 
Deep scored, perhaps, or toil and wear por- 
tend — 
To beauty of the scene one's eyes attend 
And so forget the trouble lying there. 
Now drowned by sweetness of the fragrant air. 
The wish that I would ask for thee, dear friend, 
Is one like this old country road of mine 
Which turned at last, now runs among the 

fiow'rs 
And swept by scented air of blossomed wine, 
And warmed by sunbeams through daylight 

hours ; 
Or that the road which runs through life of 

ours 
May lie 'neath Love's bright plants and scent 
divine. 



[81] 



THE BROKEN FENCE 

A TIME there was when fence rails blocked this 

way 
And somewhat rough the road, and filled with 

stone. 
It lies upon a hillside overgrown 
With bramble brake, in lovely wildness play, 
And looks out on some mountain summits gray. 
Which loom like clouds against the heaven's 

blue. 
Now the rails are down, the path lies true; 
Perhaps the hand of time upon it lay 
And pushed aside this barricade of wood. 
And so I hope 'twill be with you, my dear, 
When thy blank wall will soon be down for 

good; 
Thy roadside decked with green, and stones 

appear 
No more; when glory of the future-hood 
Will gleam as pictured peaks throughout the 

year. 



[82] 



A DESERTED HOME 

Abandoned, now beneath the sun asleep 
The homestead lies 'mid Nature's fair retreat. 
Yea, once a home and filled with faces sweet — 
To-day for all the absent ones does weep, 
Waiting till Time's decay will on it creep. 
The sightless eyes look out, around about, 
That once reflected lights and echoed shout, 
And watched some maiden pull and raise the 

sweep 
And bring the bucket dripping to the light. 
An empty heart is not unlike this place 
In which the lamp of love is deadened quite; 
But, oh my dear, the contrast with thy face 
To this, which stands in silent lonely plight, — 
Thine glows with brightness as the sun in space. 



[83] 



THE OLD MILL 

The silent stream that wends a gentle way 
Between its richly wooded, flowered banks 
Towards the quiet pool beneath the planks 
Of yonder mill now slipping towards decay, 
Still sings its song throughout the summer day. 
For long the mill has ceased to turn its wheel, 
And closed its shutters after years of zeal, 
Then sleeps enclosed by Nature's neat array. 
What fairer rest could one enjoy than this? 
I would that such a promise I could gain: 
When days of toil are o'er, then care dismiss 
And find a refuge where His love does reign 
Supreme, and where sun-beams and waters kiss; 
There listen to wild Nature's sweet refrain. 



[84] 



GIANTS OF THE FOREST 

A CHANGE has come: the stream has ceased to 

flow, 
Its song is hushed by winter's icy grasp. 
Since frost has closed its waters in his clasp 
It sleeps beneath a coverlet of snow 
To wait in silence spring-time's wak'ning glow; 
While naked giants of the forest guard 
Its rest; these heroes of Time's battles, scarred 
By winds and storms for years, relentless foe 
Of all who go to man sweet Nature's wall; 
Bombarded by the mighty thunder's crash. 
Unable e'er to make an answering call. 
In speechless dignity await the flash ; 
But through their height and girth withstand 

them all. 
For strength of noble purpose will abash. 



[85] 



THE YEAR'S TWILIGHT 

The sun of year's long day now sinks to rest, 
And autumn's twilight steals o'er wood and field, 
Ordains all things to winter's touch must yield 
E'er long, but for a short brief space has dressed 
Fair Nature all in tints, and soft caressed 
Her faded cheek with summer's last farewell. 
The silver birches which on meadside dwell 
Have shed their bright green cloaks, and stand 

depressed 
Alone against the colored autumn sky. 
Withal the scene is one of peace, and filled 
With mem'ries left by warmer days gone by, 
And twilight even cannot have them killed. 
So why, my dear, should you then breathe a 

sigh ? 
Your summer days can be recalled when willed. 



[86] 



THE WALL OF PURPOSE 

Rough and bold the cliffs rise up in scorn 
And look in frowning majesty on sea 
Incoming, rolling, pounding, on its knee, 
And spouting spray on high in anger bom 
Of each rebuff, continuous from mom 
Of early time until the present day ; 
Watched o'er by sun and moon and starlight 

ray, 
And winter's constellation Capricorn. 
'Tis Nature's wall against her ceaseless foe: 
I trust thy purpose wall is just as strong 
To balk the battling waves of care and woe 
Which break on it from seas of loss and wrong. 
The light of hope will watch o'er all and grow 
In lustre day by day and strength prolong. 



[87] 



THE PINES 

Whene'er my eyes are caught by such a scene 
As this, which now Hes spread before my sight, 
A sense of sweet repose then holds me quite; 
Recalls the stretch of road that runs between 
The pines that stand with color ever green, 
And dwell hard by a tiny woodland lake 
Encircled, too, by rustling reedy brake, 
'Long which we strolled in happiness serene 
'Mid golden sunbeams of our early spring. 
Then one old fellow rises straight on high. 
Among the forest pines a very king. 
And with thy faithful love, my dear, does vie 
In constancy of tone, and Time will bring 
No change, I hope, to cloud thy summer sky. 



[88] 



THE BIRTH AND COURSE OF THE 
STREAM 

A SILVERED sheet of limpid water white, 
Inserted gem 'mid daisied meadows fair, 
Reflects the sun and rural beauties rare, 
Smiling brightly 'neath the gladsome light. 
Such beauties ! No, it cannot hold them quite, 
So overflows, and starts a little stream 
Which rambles merrily through fields that gleam 
With golden grain, all waving glad delight. 
Now a torrent swift through mountain fell ; 
Anon it grows a river, broad and deep; 
Lingers near the village church's bell, 
And bears away to ocean's world-wide sweep 
The fruits of mortal minds, strange markets 

swell. 
And there at last at rest, it falls asleep. 



[89] 



THE OLD HOMESTEAD 

Beneath the summer's sun and winter's sky, 
The road lies straight before the gate of home 
Where open welcome calls a rest from roam, 
Refreshing cheer invites you to draw nigh. 
Amid the days of toil and weary sigh. 
How sweet it is to look back on that time. 
When years have flown and you are past your 

prime; 
Recall the stream still gently flowing by, 
The rocks and light which guard the harbor 

door — 
A welcome gives to traveler's return. 
When autumn leaves do make a yellow floor. 
And lighted fires within the homestead bum. 
And lovely faces sweet, you love the more — 
Those days of old I love, and for them yearn. 



[90] 



THE LIGHT 

Upon a ledge that stretches out to sea, 
Alone with waves and sea-gulls flying wild, 
Dashing spray, and winter's storm clouds piled, 
The light-house stands as silent as can be ; 
A sentry of the rocks in speechless plea 
Gives warning of the danger lurking there, 
'Mid darkness, by its constant glowing flare 
To all who travel o'er the waters free. 
So all mankind upon Life's ocean deep 
Should seek and heed the light of Hope upon 
Their cliff's, when clouds of doubt around them 

sweep. 
And, oh my dear, I trust thy light anon 
Is filled with love, the brighter it will keep 
And cheer you of all troubles undergone. 



[91] 



THE QUIET POOL 

'Mid wooded rocky hills a little stream 
Comes running, tumbling, down a white cascade 
Of flying spray, and rainbows bright are made 
When touched by filtered light from golden 

beam 
Throughout the happy hours of summer's gleam. 
Down below it forms a quiet pool, 
A shaded spot with waters clear and cool, 
Wherein the speckled beauty loves to dream 
And sleep beneath an overhanging stone. 
So it is with Life's fast falling brook: 
Amid the rapids, pools of rest are known; 
But one must stop amid the rush and look — 
And, oh my dear, there's one that I do own ; 
'Tis hid beneath thy love, my sheltered nook. 



[92] 



A WORD OF GOLD 

The gold of autumn sun made gold the sky 
And gilded trees, placed sheen upon thy hair, 
Kindled laughter on thy face so fair 
While j oy welled up within my heart ; and why ? 
A word of gold fell from thy lips — a sigh, 
A kiss ; a whisper of the wind through pines ; 
A breath from roses blowing on their vines 
'Mid beams of yellow sunlight darting by. 
One word : a golden barge set sail, goes free 
Upon life's stream toward the golden West 
Decked with garlands, colored leaves, with thee 
My Love, as pilot guiding it to rest 
Beneath the cliffs thy faith hath raised for me 
Through golden Indian days thy love hath 
blessed. 



[93] 



LIQUID SUNSHINE 

Pacific's emerald gem, Oahu * bright, 
Looks o'er the vast expanse of rolHng water 
That kisses her feet, and calls her Ocean's 

daughter. 
Her mountains crowned and bathed in golden 

light 
Above the Pali, paint the wondrous sight 
Of rugged peaks, of sea, and sleeping land ; 
The place where fell the Island's ancient band 
Of thousand heroes driven off that height: — 
To-day, when rain-clouds kiss the mountain 

crest 
They turn to liquid sunshine for the dead; 
Bright misty drops, for glory of the West 
Caress their lonely, tropic, mountain bed. 
Yea, lives of men are ever greatly blessed 
When tears and laughter are together wed. 



* The most Important island in the Hawaiian group on 
which is situated Honolulu, the capital. 

[94] 



THE TEMPLE AT NIKKO 

Among the shades on fir-clad mountain side 

The Shogun god of Nikko keeps his ward 

Through power of spirit, ancient lord. 

Yea, dwells in secret shrine, the temple's pride, 

In utter darkness deep as caverns wide ; 

Yet lit with gold, and powdered hand-carved 

stone 
Of precious grade ; and brilliant pictures tone. 
His image rests alone through time's slow stride : 
Invisible and dumb it draws the crowd, — 
The true believers; worldly sneering kind, 
Approach his bronze-clothed steps to music 

loud, 
While Shinto priests bend low, their chanting 

wind — 
Present the sacred feast to spirit proud: — 
With saki, blessed, would guest to service bind. 



[95] 



THE GROVE OF lYEYASU 

Above the temple, 'neath the bronze and stone, 
There sleeps Japan's great Shogun, princely 

lord, 
For whom the firs e'er form a needled sward 
O'er which the nation bears immortal crown 
Between their massive stems and tow'ring frown. 
Withal, their outstretched arms the stranger 

greets ; 
Yea, smiles as sunlight through the branches 

meets 
The shadows there, and takes them for her own ; 
And far below the river sings her song ; 
While on the air is heard the temple's bell 
Which calls the hours that to the past belong. 
And rings to-morrow's fast approaching knell; 
Yet all the firs remain so fair and strong. 
And so I trust 'twill be with thee as well. 



[96] 



ROME 

Within a little space beneath a hill 

I looked upon the world and called it mine; 

Yea, owned a Caesar of the gods divine 

Who turned this world according to his will. 

He sent my many legions forth to kill 

Ambition of all lands — e'en kingly kings — 

Of whose deeds my poet ever sings ; 

And scholars, too, my history's page will fill 

With pictures of my wars ; and stones as well 

Are blazoned with triumphs of my might: — 

Deserted by my gods my power fell 1 

To-day I look upon the Forum's site: 

A hole of broken stone and em'pty cell; 

But memory's flaming torch of ancient light ! 



[97] 



TO THOSE FORGOTTEN IN SANTA 
CROCE, FLORENCE 

Asleep beneath the wond'rous shafts of light 
Renowned of men, who graced Italian soil 
And made her famous by their days of toil, 
To-day are honored by some others' might; 
Whose statued handiwork now marks the site 
Where each is laid in Santa Croce's frame; 
Extols their names in everlasting fame. 
And blots fore'er forgetfulness of night. 
Except a few whose covers make the floor! 
Inscriptions worn by footsteps of a race 
Who come, and gently open memory's door, 
But scarcely look upon the foot-worn face 
Of him who there has laid since days of yore : — 
Whose deeds, perhaps, deserve the selfsame 
grace! 



[98] 



NOTRE DAME DE PARIS 

'TwAS Sunday, New Year's Eve, at close of day 
When I strolled within thy open door 
And saw thy nave with figures on its floor 
In kneeling posture, there to softly pray 
Amid the chanting priests and organ's sway ; 
Whose tones once softly o'er the choir sound 
And then peal forth aloud in notes profound 
Above the entrance door quite far away; 
Filling all thy great cathedral 
With rich tones in praise of One Great God, 
Mingling with the base of men, and choral 
Treble voices one grand period 
Of chords, which ever will my soul enthrall 
When I recall thy church my feet have trod. 



[99] 



THE TOUCH OF A LITTLE HAND 

With softness of a feather on the air, 
Unseen more oft than not, but ever nigh ; 
Yet owns a power great to beautify 
All things, and render any home more fair; 
Creates sweet joy, and helps dispel dull care; 
Soothes all pain ; yea, stills the cries of child — 
The touch of dainty hand, like snowflakes piled, 
Falls all about our lives in glory rare 
With fairy lightness, making not a sound ; 
As sunbeams play in forest fastness deep, 
So doth thy touch, dear one ; and I have found 
Its softness lulled, and put me fast asleep. 
And tasted of its sweet — all else confound 
Except thy love, this touch is mine to keep. 



[100] 



MIRAGE 

On that inverted bowl we call the sky 
The sun stood still in all his glory bright; 
No cloud or doubtful haze obscured his light 
Upon the sea or rock-bound coast so nigh; 
But, lo, on horizon without a why 
There showed fantastic land from out the deep, 
Pictured 'neath the heavens fast asleep, 
And silent as the wind without a sigh ; 
While on the rocks a Lorellei appeared : 
She drew me, drew me, to her with sweet song 
And laughing eyes — I saw she was not weird, 
But only fishermaid to rocks belong. 
With welcome sweet my heart the more en- 
deared — 
Alas, how dull when I rejoined the throng. 



[101] 



AFTERGLOW 

Yon mountain peak, aye, reaching to the sky, 

Pure in its white coverlet of snow, 

Yet rich in glory of the sunset's glow — 

Reflected tints of red with roses vie. 

Or burning coals of fire raised on high. 

When all below Is sinking into dusk 

And leaves the world as bare as empty husk, 

Or plunged in grief for day so soon to die. 

Not so with me: the afterglow as dawn 

Appears reflected in thy presence, dear. 

And thou my snow-capped mount like radiant 

mom 
Will never see love's sunset any year — 
Thy crest of happiness be ever bom 
Anew; yea, always glowing bright and clear. 



[102] 



A LODESTONE 

There is a mystic lodestone of some kind 
That draws me ever to the sea-bound rocks, 
Whose frowning crest to-day, as always, mocks 
And laughs at waves which, driven by the wind, 
Then break thereon in disappointment blind 
Of baffled purpose they could not attain: 
Like me, who sought my quest once more in vain ; 
Alas, my fishermaid I could not find; 
And yet the fault of this was wholly mine ; 
For warned I was that her I should not see ; 
But still I felt, and saw the lodestone shine. 
Again forgetting all, I looked for thee 
Where oft I looked, and why I can't define, 
Except thy thought, the magnet which drew me. 



[103] 



THE CHANNEL BELL 

Dreaming as the day begins to wane 
I see the wind-blown waters rolling on, 
The stomi-clouds scurry fast, the sea birds gone. 
A fisher in his boat toils through the lane 
Of ocean's deep, his haven to attain 
Before yon mist shuts out the sea from sight. 
His arms are strong, the boat is safe, the fight 
Is won, while beacon shines with hope through 

rain, 
And warmth of wom,an's love the welcome gives. 
Yea, storms do rage upon our seas at times ; 
But strength of purpose is the boat that lives, 
And Love the channel bell. How sweet its 

chimes 
To oar-worn toilers ; while thy smile outlives 
The harbor lights, my dear, in all the climes. 



[104] 



SECRETS 

Hid in depths of yonder forest shade, 
Yea, buried under years of passing Time, 
Romantic secrets sleep in peace sublime; 
Where trees once saplings now their girths have 

made. 
And forest stream its course through rock has 

laid, 
Bore witness once to sad or happy tale 
Spoken or acted near their mystic pale. 
Beneath the glowing stars which never fade. 
The rustling leaf, the murm'ring brooks still 

tell 
The story that is meant for you and me, 
For have we not a hidden secret spell 
Asleep for centuries, as it seems, yet we. 
Do stir like leaves in depths of heartbeats' well? 
My dear, it is but love's sweet thought for thee. 



[105] 



INTOXICATION 

Lo ! Dreaming through the hours of this fair 

night, 
All lit with countless lamps like noon-day sun, 
There steals o'er me the languor of but one 
Sensation bom of golden bubbles bright; 
The clink of glass, and drowsy music quite 
Enfolds me in its mystic fond embrace, 
Reveals in mind's enchanting frame a face 
For fairness unexcelled, ablaze with light 
Of ardent love which owns my precious maid. 
The glances from her sapphire eyes so sweet 
Bring thrills of pleasure scarce to be repaid ; 
While mine, for love, are timid hers to meet 
For fear she may look down, or be afraid: — 
Intoxicating happiness complete ! 



[106] 



MY BRIDE 

A TOUCH of color over canvas spread, 

A form of bronze, one carved from marble 

white, 
A dainty piece of Dresden China light, 
But ill describes the wondrous living thread 
That binds me, leads to happiness ahead. 
And joins my life to one sweet life most free. 
She placed within my hand the mystic key 
That held her love, and gave consent to wed. 
Then with the sacred ring became my bride 
And crowned my joy with glory of her mien. 
Her golden hair and sapphire eyes, beside 
The softened beauty of her face serene, 
Are now my treasured everlasting pride: 
To HEU I kneel in homage due my queen. 



[107] 



MUSIC AT A WAGNER CONCERT 

Oh, hark ! Sweet noises borne which rise and 

swell 
In wondrous harmony of sound most clear, 
From strings, from wood, and brazen voices 

near, 
While drums and clang of disc with silver bell 
Are miingled with soft notes from harp's deep 

well, 
Which freeze one's soul and send the thrills 

right through, 
As waves of mystic current always do. 
They wake the secret feelings with their spell; 
But hushed are whispers from that great, vast 

throng 
Of living, costumed statues in that place. 
Where eyes are wet, and yet so bright and 

strong ; 
But, lo, I hear a voice and see one face 
That thrills me more than all the music long. 
For 'tis my wife in all her loving grace. 



[108] 



TWINS 

T ulips blowing nigh a garden wall 

H old their heads up high to catch the light. 

E very one alike, but yet not quite! 

L ovely in their dress 'neath sunbeams fall, 

I dly sway or bend at Zephyr's call 

T hrough the long and gladsome springtime hours 

T hat sound the blithesome notes of youth's fair flow'rs, 

L ike the splashing of the wavelets small — 

E ternal as the softest summer air. 

T hese little girls are very much the same 

W inning, cute, with rippling golden hair; 

I nciting questions: "What can be thy name?" 

"N ay, not Gwendolen, but Linda fair !" 

S tupid? Yes! But still I'm not to blame! 



[109] 



AUegnmB 



A DREAM BY THE WAYSIDE 

A NARRATIVE 



INVOCATION 

What mean these shadows fantastic and vague, 
And voices faintly sounding as of wind 
Which whisper through the pines or brooks that 

wend 
O'er stony paths and sing without fatigue; 
A gentle voice well-known which comes to plague 
My ear with mem'ries of a broken call, 
Resounding echo from a mountain wall 
Borne on by winds o'er many a distant league? 
'Tis mem'ry's glowing furnace melting thought 
Which o'er the parchment flows a verbose stream. 
And pictured scenes before thine eyes are brought; 
Come thou, O Muse ! thine aid I shall esteem ; 
So may my thoughts in active scenes be wrought 
And Life revived from phantoms of my dream. 



[114] 



A DREAM BY THE WAYSIDE 

He stood alone upon the great highway 
That runs through Life right on toward the 

day 
When all must sleep as Nature under frost. 
The treasure of his inmost heart was lost! 
Her failing strength gave out and she sank 

down 
To rise not, nor his happiness re-crown. 
He kissed her marble brow and hid her form 
With flowers grown amidst Life's summer 

storm, 
A mass of beauty tints and sweet of scent. 
Then once again upon his journey went 
With empty heart a guide to seek the way 
Point out by night as well as through the day. 

He paused upon the road all spent and ill. 
Above his head the sun burned like a grill, 
While sharpened stones lay strewn beneath his 

feet— 
The wind with powdered dusty clouds replete. 
A shaded spot beneath a kindly rock 
That hung above the road, a mighty block, 
With cooling looks invited to his rest ; 
The wanderer there laid him down its guest. 
Then many pictures came before his mind, 
And voices sang in accents sweet, unkind, 

[115] 



In Dreamland seen and heard, but all were 

strange 
And followed fast with rapid varied change. 

He saw a wilderness, a desert void 
Of life, a place which plants and beasts avoid 
Alike, with sandstone mountains rising up 
Abrupt, with rugged cliffs like giant's cup, 
Deep scarred with driven sand and cut by seams 
From top to toe, as by some dried up streams — 
Mere paths which lie beneath the frowning 

heads ; 
While over all a semi-darkness spreads 
Her gloom, but with a rosy tint on top 
Of mountain's peak. Below a blackish crop 
Of shadows showed the cliffs like phantoms 

weird 
Of human forms, and shapes of beasts appeared. 

The hills themselves, all barren to their crests, 
Loomed up on high, fantastic shape suggests. 
No sound was heard to break the silence there 
Save that of sand against the cliffs severe. 
Which cut them like the sea upon the land 
Forever wearing, claiming their demand. 
Or moaning of the wind among the rocks. 

The Dreamer saw himself among these blocks 
On mountain side and toiling toward the top 
Upon the slipping sand, with now a drop 
[116] 



Or two aback, yet struggling slowly on, 
Completely worn with trials undergone; 
When all at once he heard a ringing sound, 
A bell-like voice which came from out the 
ground : 

"Spinning, spinning, never spun ; 

Ever whirring, whirring, 
Flies the spindle never done, 

Ever singing, singing 
At the work but just begun. 

"Weaving, weaving, but a thread. 

Ever twisting, twisting 
Threads of Life which mortals tread. 

Ever turning, turning. 
Lives of men are made and wed. 

"Standing, standing as the Fate 

Ever starting, starting, 
Clotho youngest must create, 

Ever planning, planning, 
How to make, to save, and mate. 

"Wand'ring, wand'ring, all alone, 
Always roaming, roaming. 

Seek Lachesis from this on. 
Never ceasing, ceasing. 

Ask her now thy way make known. 

[117] 



"Helping, helping, I sustain, 

Always aiding, aiding, 
From thy birth till prime attain; 

Ever cheering, cheering. 
Doubting souls in health and pain. 

"Sparkle, sparkle, little spring; 

Always bubble, bubble, 
Yield a life to everything. 

Ever ripple, ripple. 
Men and plants and birds of wing. 

"Drink ye ! drink ye ! of the well, 

Ever seeking, hunting; 
Drink, refresh, thy quest impel; 

Never failing, failing. 
Succor who in deserts dwell." 

The voice died softly down and passed away, 
But left him strong, revived, resolved to pray, 
As Clotho bade, the needed aid attain. 
He faced the hill with pleading eyes. In pain, 
With outstretched arms, he uttered his appeal. 
While words and tones his eagerness reveal. 

"Lost in the Wilderness of Life, 

A wanderer became ! 
Do thou save me from further strife, 

And hear me call thy name. 

[118] 



"Lachesis, Fate ! thou art the one 
Whom Clotho bids me call 

To aid mc gain the Spring, the Sun 
Of future Love — My all! 

"I've lost upon the great highway. 

Oh ! lead me to the well, 
And grant it be no distant day 

There by her side may dwell. 

"I would its water's spirit drink, 

As the Fate hath bid ; 
My Love obtain beside its brink. 

Canst tell me where she's hid?" 

Once more he tried the hill, the crest to gain, 
And proved at last the fight was not in vain. 
All spent and worn upon a rock he fell. 
And then it was he heard the water tell 
While dripping down upon the stony ground ; 
And like a voice there came a singing sound: ^ 

"I bubbled out a crystal spring, 

A little still and quiet thing, 

A mirror in a sandy pool 

Of sparkling drops all clear and cool. 

"In many parts now am I found, 
In desert hill and plains abound. 
I send my streams both far and wide 
And some in human hearts abide, 
[119] 



"And bring to life the love asleep ; 
All men and hearts in gladness keep. 
For I, for I give hfe to all 
That grow or breathe, the great and 
small f 

"Come hither, thou who rovest alone 
Within this lifeless desert thrown, 
And freely of my water drink ; 
So wilt thou then thy love bethink." 

The rippling, silvery voice died softly down, 
But still the splashing drops kept up their tone 
And seemed to echo oft the words : "Come, 

take 
And find thy Love in happiness awake." 
And still he lay all worn, there seeking rest 
Upon his stony bed, his wishes blest 
With fountain's cheering echo, splashing sound. 

Then leaping down he searched and quickly 
found 
Her lying in a pool beneath the ledge. 
And blushing with the rosy light to edge ; 
Her waters bubbling upward through the sand 
Fell back again upon the gravel land, 
And then the splashing sound on high arose. 
Upon his hands and knees he crept up close. 
And placed his lips against her lips and drank 
The water of her spirit pure and frank. 

[120] 



He felt the weariness from him depart, 

His blood to course more freely through his 

heart, 
His pulse to beat with warmth of new-bom life. 
And strength revived for future unknown strife. 
The light of love within his eyes was seen. 
His senses, too, were more alert and keen. 
At length he rose and stood beside the spring 
And listened as a voice began to sing: 

"Swiftly runs the thread of life 
That's bom of Clotho's wheel. 

Swiftly must I pick them out 
When taken from the reel, 

"Justly place them in the world 
By me, the Second Fate; 

Justly must decree their lot 
Before it be too late. 

"Quickly Springtime will arrive 
And show thy maiden fair. 

Quickly bind ye both in one, 
A true and loving pair; 

"Safely lead thee from this place 
And fill thine empty heart; 

Safely pass to fair Springtime 
Thy cord that will not part. 

[121] 



"Only watch for Atropos ! 

The cruel Fate to shun ; 
Only she thy cord may cut 

Before thy quest is won." 

The Dreamer's lips then parted in a smile. 
This answer to his pray'r he heard awhile, 
As once again he settled down to rest. 
And then the rosy-tinted light decreased, 
The phantom forms of rocks and distant hill 
Began to change their shapes and all was still, 
Except the splashing of the little spring. 
In the dim light that now began to cling 
About it seemed the wilderness had gone. 
The rocks and hills to forest trees had grown, 
The barren slopes to smooth and gentle glade; 
The sands to grass and plants the call obeyed. 
The songs of tiny treble voices filled 
The air with sweetness of their notes and thrilled 
The Dreamer with their richly varied tone. 
A glow appearing on the sky, had grown 
All red and gold, and purple tinted shades 
Were spread abroad; a stream of light invades 
The whole, and brings to view the hidden things 
That lay asleep beneath the heaven's ring. 

Beside the spring, and close thereto, a maid 
Appeared. Her dress of misty golden shade, 
Her face, a sun for warmth, shone bright and 
true, 



And by her side were Flora, Zephyr, Dew. 
She stretched lier arms and from the parted lips 
Her voice rang out in joyous fellowship, 
With notes so bhthe and full of life and youth, 
With promise fair of future hope and truth. 

"So-ho ! So-ho ! at last I'm here ! 
The springtime, gayest of the year. 
My dress is made of rainbow hue, 
My locks with blossoms fair bedew. 

"My eyes are like the stars at night, 
My face reflects the rays of light; 
My breath is scented with the plants. 
My presence all the world enchants. 

"Awake, my sister of the Spring J 
Let loose thy streams and we will bring 
To aU the earth a ripened Love — 
A perfect life to all above. 

"I'll warm the heart of man and beast, 
And Love will grow and be increased; 
But thou, Oh, sister, lend thine aid 
To mould the hearts of man and maid. 

"For I have come and brought the 

charm, 
The rains, the dew and sunshine warm ; 

[123] 



Thy waters of the living hfe 
Must touch all things to make them 
rife. 

"Take courage now, thou Wanderer, 
Who roams alone, thou Slumberer, 
Who stumbles on through Wilderness, 
And bears a heart of emptiness. 

"I am the Springtime of thy Love, 
Behold the things below, above ! 
The spring of Life will touch ye all — 
Rejoice and drink, for this I call." 

Her lips like petals of a new-blown rose 
Remain apart — a glorious smile expose. 
Her voice like music of a silver bell 
Did cease, but still the echo held its spell 
As borne by Zephyr, rang its joyful chime 
Against the hills, and sang of sweet Springtime. 
And Flora went dancing and tripping 'bout 
Where'er her dainty footsteps touched, a 

sprout- 
Of sweetly scented flowers appeared, indeed, 
Enclosed by grass, a green and velvet mead. 
The ivy plants began to spread their vines. 
And varied fruit trees showed their blossomed 

signs. 
The birds that filled the place their gladness 

prate ; 

[1^4] 



And sang of love, or sweetly called a mate; 

While butterflies all brightly dressed through- 
out 

Among the blossoms flew, or poised about, 

And hum of divers insects joined their call. 

On every leaf a diamond small 

Was placed thereon by Dew at Springtime's 
charge, 

Which gleam and shine and colored rays dis- 
charge. 

The mists from spray of splashing fountains 
white 

Are borne by Zephyr, sprinkling flowers bright, 

And to each plant a breath of life imparts 

While streams and little brooklets make their 
starts 

And sing their songs while flowing, rippling on, 

And life through Springtime's garden bear 
anon. 

The sun stood high in heaven's bowl above 
And slyly laughed as shadows dark he drove 
Upon the pleasant scene in garden fair; 
And these were made for Atropos's snare. 
Where'er Life is there, too, can she be found 
In hiding, waiting, men and things confound — 
A chance to cut the threads from Clotho's wheel 
And from Lachesis' work the honors steal. 



[125] 



The Wanderer saw this within a trice. 
A desert changed into a paradise 
By touch of wann Springtime and Water's aid, 
Urged on by Fate and her commands obeyed. 
He quickly rose in glad surprise and cheer, 
But paused ; a voice within a shadow near 
Began to speak, and breathed a menace dire 
Which chilled him through and then as though 
on fire: 

"Ha t Ha ! Hear Atropos f 
Last of the sisters three, the fearful Fate! 

At my approach the living flee. 
My heart is cold and filled with hate. 

Cut will thy thread, oh, some day be, 

Cut surely through 

Cut shall thy Life be and thy Love. 

"Ha ! Ha ! thy Fate I am, 
Of fortune Love, and caused thy tears to 
flow 
For losses I have sent and laugh. 
Laugh at thy lament and thy woe. 
Foiled in thine every eff^ort too. 
Foiled in the past. 
Foiled aye in coming daylight sure. 

"Ha! Ha! in every place. 
Among shadows hiding in any clime 

Can I be found and armed with shears, 
[126] 



And watching for my chance and time. 
Pierced will be thy future and hopes, 
Pierced certain, true. 
Pierced by my hand and knife both 
keen. 

"Ha ! Ha ! thy quest is won ! 
Thou wilt obtain from fair Springtime thy 
maid. 
My shadow will surround ye twain ; 
Naught shall remain that Fates have made. 
Look to the lily now that blows, 
Look to the vine, 
Look for the cutting out by Fate." 

His eyes looked out upon the wondrous scene 
That teemed with life, the marvelous serene. 
And muttered in his dream: "Not so indeed! 
I will her words and menace not concede." 

The Wanderer saw Springtime then advance 
In all her glory clothed with bright romance. ' 
She paused before a lily, graceful, white 
Which raised her bell-like head toward the light. 
Above the grass and cordlike creeping vine 
That lay upon the ground like twisted twine. 
She breathed a kiss upon its sweet, pure face 
And gently stroked the plant with winsome 

grace, 
And spoke in whispers low her magic word, 
A miracle performed with one accord. 
[127] 



"Thou fairest of the flow'rs blown, 

Who stands for purity ! 
Thy drooping head shall not for long 

Be held in modesty ; 

"But raised on high so all can see 

The beauty of thy face; 
So willed the Fate beneath the oak — 

I now her wish uncase. 

"A blossom of another kind 

Shall stand where thou dost now ; 

Of human race the greatest aid, 
To man his life endow. 

"Lachesis willed and I obey. 

From plant to maid now change ! 
Thy life and love to his I bind 

With cords quite mystic, strange, 

"By Fate now lying at thy feet, 
'Twas wove for him and thee ! 

So wilt thy days be just as fair 
As here beneath this tree; 

"Where thou hast lived the fairest flow'r 
That one could meet withal. 

Keep thou, sweet one, thy golden heart, 
Thy love the more enthrall. 

[128] 



"Come now, Zephyr, fleet of foot 

And bring the water sweet 
From yonder splashing fountains white 

And cause her heart to beat; 

"To throb with love and happiness 
Through days of joy or grief, 

Thy love for him and his for thee 
Is wealth beyond belief." 

Then in the place just where the lily grew 
A tall and graceful figure came to view ; 
And Zephyr quickly ran and bore the drop 
Of spray from playing font without a stop. 
He sprinkled water on the lovely form 
The touch of which caused it to stir, transform ; 
The breast to rise at every breath it drew 
From fair Springtime's sweet lips like scented 

dew, 
Who now the figure draped in robes of white 
And crowned the head with raven locks like 

night 
Which on the shoulders fell in glossy wave. 
She gently pressed the eyelids which then gave 
And opened at her touch, and then disclosed 
The eyes themselves of chestnut brown com- 
posed. 
Which glowed with warmth, and new-bom life 

acclaim. 
She touched the cheeks and then the color came 
[129] 



Like roses blushing from the morning light. 
She stroked the neck and arms and left them 

white 
And soft. The fingers, too, she tapered out 
And caused the nails to blush and shine without. 
As fair a maid as ever caused a war, 
The worst the ancient walls of Troy e'er saw, 
Now stood in all her loveliness and grace 
By Springtime's side amidst the floral race, 
A plant-bom maid endowed with life and love. 
And wondrous fair, her like there's none above ! 

Then Springtime reaching downward plucked 
the vine. 
The cord Lachesis surely did design; 
Then rising up, her lovely form appeared 
As graceful, pliant, lithe as lilies reared. 
The light reflected from her face and eyes 
Her vict'ry for this fair creation cries. 
And now she called the Dreamer from his place, 
Who started up with beating heart apace, 
And quickly came with joy to Springtime's side ; 
His being filled with rapture deeply sighed. 
Then Springtime joined their hands and with 

the vine 
She bound him to the plant-bom maid divine ; 
And, turning, slowly passed upon her way, 
While Nature's orchestra began to play. 
And tiny voices sang with simple joy 
Their song of love which nothing can destroy: 
[130] 



"Right glorious the sisters twain 1 
The element we do obtain 
From crystal spring or flowing stream, 
And watch them in the sunlight gleam. 

"Oh ! glorious the sisters twain ! 
The Springtime carries in her train 
A warmth and grace to clothe the land, 
While all things grow at her command. 

"Oh ! glorious the sisters two t 
Exult ye all, as we now do, 
For gladsome season brings her fruit 
And from the Earth the whole recruit. 

"Rejoice with thee, thy quest is won! 
No longer now a lonesome one 
Through Life to wander all alone, 
Or for thine empty heart bemoan. 

"Now to thy world thou must return. 
For naught remains for thee to mourn, 
And bear with thee thy plant-bom maid 
The fairest one the springs have made. 

"We sing for joy ! It is so sweet 
To be alive, and then to meet 
Thy dearest one and with her mate, 
And have this gift ordained by Fate." 

[131] 



The tiny feathered creatures voiced their 

glee, 
As man and maid stood bound by the decree; 
Their new-born love showed bright within their 

eyes 
As each the other's love for one espies. 
He passed his arm around the neck so dear 
And gently pressed the loving face up near, 
And from her inmost soul the love drew in 
From lips as sweet as budding roses thin, 
And then he whispered soft the words that 

made 
Her head to droop and on his shoulder laid. 

"Ordained by Fate to be as one 
We stand now heart to heart; 

I drink the nectar from thy lips 
Thy love will ne'er depart, 

"But lend me aid along Life's way 
With thee, dear one, as guide. 

A long and weary time it is 

I've sought for thee, my bride. 

"And now I've found thee, thanks to 
Spring 

And to the Sisters Fate ; 
My life and love to thee I pledge, 

My service dedicate 

[132] 



"For weal or woe and constant love 

And always day by day; 
In time to come I so will prove 

The truth of what I say. 

"Throughout our lives I'll ever be 

Devoted, faithful, true, 
As thou will surely be as well, 

So will our love keep new. 

"I take thee now out in my world 

To meet my people there. 
Fear not because a few may frown 

But with them, dear, forbear. 

"For loving hearts beat there as well. 
And thou art wondrous fairl 

Thy beauty will but cast a spell, 
So do thou not despair." 

He gently tried the drooping head to raise. 
She nestled close, afraid to meet his gaze. 
He kissed her oft and bade her speak to him 
The words he craved — to hear from her love's 

hymn. 
And then it seemed as though the trees did 

speak ; 
The sighing wind among the branches meek 
Was like the tone that came from her dear throat 
And on his ear in accents sweet they smote: 
[133] 



"Hark to my song, dear one, 

Of a voice at sea; 
Calls of the gulls wild flown 

Far away at sea. 

"White of their wings as foam 

On the crests of waves ; 
Glisten in sunlight's roam 

On the crests of waves. 

"Cries of the birds which soar, 
For their mates they love ; 

Calls of the wilds that roar 
On the hills above. 

"Ripples of waves on stream. 

On the lily sweet; 
Voices which sing the dream 

Of the love they meet. 

"Murmuring of breeze through rush, 

Of the rustling bough ; 
Song of the wildwood thrush, 

All the sounds love's vow. 

"Love, the echo I sound 

For thy ears alone ; 
Hark to the voice I've found, 

Of my love, my own." 

[134] 



'Twas then she raised her graceful head on high 
And shyly kissed his lips and breathed a sigh. 
The joy of perfect happiness appeared 
Upon her face, to him the more endeared. 

With steps of leisure bom they went their 

way, 
Life's stream pursued through Springtime's 

garden gay. 
And came in all good time upon its sill, 
And looked down on his world which, turning 

still. 
Continues in its practical design. 
With still its rules of form, ideas combine. 
Its thoughts of right, its thoughts of wrong, its 

rush; 
Its lust for golden affluence, its brush 
For place, the power wealth on men confers; 
Its sorrows, pains for many travelers, 
Possessing not the means, subsist in want. 
And so the world keeps up the same old rant, 
And practical arrangements hold their sway, 
As years on years it turns the same old way. 

The man his foot upon the world then placed 
And stretched his arms, the maiden's form em- 
braced ; 
Just then the sun a shadow dark did cast, 
Enclosed them both and made the light a past. 
Then Atropos, the cruel one, sprang out 
[135] 



Her hiding place within the shade's redoubt, 
And quickly cut the cord of Fate which bound 
The man and flower-maid in love profound. 

He backward fell and gave a cry of grief, 
Despair, the wail of which w^as past belief. 
As borne away upon the turning world 
And in affliction quickly, strangely hurled; 
And left the maid to strive with Fate alone 
Upon the threshold of her heaven just known. 

But soon a light appeared that pierced the 

shade 
And every hour a greater brilliance made. 
At length a dimly outlined figure showed 
An angel, dazzling wliite with wings which 

glowed, 
And clinging robes of white like mists at night; 
With waves of rippling golden hair, bound tight 
To brow with gleaming ring. The golden 

crown 
Supports a star; its light the shade did drown. 
It lit her face and made her eyes to shine. 
With luster bright from heaven's blue divine. 
The silver rays were o'er the form dispersed 
And showed the arms upon her breast traversed ; 
The eyes were open wide, the head, thrown back, 
Looked up and sought to pierce the hidden 

track, 

[136] 



While faintly rang upon the quiet air 
The voice, like whispers from the woodlands 
rare: 

"I follow after Atropos 

Midst trouble she hath made; 

The victims of her wrath I heal 
And lend defeats my aid. 

"A little thing I only am, 

And travel in the dark 
The Fate has made in lives of men 

Of low degree and mark. 

"The ray I send is from my star. 

For cheer is like the sun ; 
The brilliance of those golden beams 

Will ne'er my shaft outrun. 

"It cheers the souls and minds of all 

In pain, or sick at heart ; 
And sorrows of all kinds it serves 

To heal, or soothe the smart. 

"Yea ! take me as a priceless gem 

And cherish me as such; 
Or as a guardian angel, I, 

To comfort with my touch 



[1S7] 



"Internal, bleeding wounds of thine. 

If in Fates' shade dost grope, 
I pray thee ne'er reject me quite, 

For I am called thy hope. 

"Within thy breast I'll live and grow, 

Expand each hour and day ; 
The time will come when I can give, 

And happiness convey." 

The Wanderer awoke to find that Time 
Was standing there to force him now to climb 
Again upon the great highway he quit 
To rest and his vitality refit, 
And where he dreamed his dream of love re- 
gained. 
He staggered to his feet with senses chained 
As yet with mem'ry of the visions seen 
And looked along the road with wistful mien. 
Oh ! was it true that all was but a dream, 
That naught remained of all that was supreme? 
Ah no ! Not all ! He found he still had Hope ; 
His aid would be ; with trials all to cope ; 
And while he onward toiled as though alone, 
He bore within the gem of Hope, the One, 
The only One to speak to him of Love, 
Of future Love. She lived, Hope said, above. 



[138] 



A NIGHT AND A DAY 

AN EPISODE 



DEDICATION 

Among the pictures on our mem'ry's wall, 
That complex gallery of all mankind, 
Where Time our scenes has placed and also signed. 
And where some few, perhaps, within this hall 
Are classed by us as favorites withal. 
There's one I know which stands out first and last, 
Contains a face more loved than all amassed; 
With every glance our being more enthrall, 
And though the touch of Time has chilled it some. 
The tender look can ne'er be shut out quite. 
And even speaks, although the mouth is dumb. 
To this fair portrait now before my sight. 
My favored One ! more loved has it become. 
This episode I dedicate by right. 



[140] 



A NIGHT AND A DAY 

'TwAs many years ago since he began 
His journey's life and faced the road which ran 
Towards the future hid in doubtful mist 
That shrouded things which unforeseen exist, 
Until conveyed by Time upon them came. 
Retreat there's none, for past the Road will 

claim ; 
No man this barrier can cross again 
When Time his hand once grasped — his hold 

maintain. 
Inflexible this Captain of the hosts, — 
Fatigue to him unknown. With sleepless posts 
He forward plods with quickened steps or slow. 
And keeps his cohorts ever on the go. 

The strangest possible of all the roads. 
Beset with travelers of many modes. 
Here some are found who crowd and push their 

way. 
While others straggle out along and play. 
And loiter in a cool and shaded spot ; 
And some who drop and quickly are forgot. 
For Time has gone and passed beyond their 

reach ; 
While others trip and fall from cliff to beach. 
Whose cries are lost within the deep abyss. 
The Road itself in parts is rough, amiss. 
And filled with rocks and stones which wound 

the feet 

[141] 



Of those who strike them marching on the street, 
Perhaps were led by carelessness or pushed 
Upon the trouble, so were bruised or crushed, 
Which makes the toil of travel hard to face. 
The Traveler had reached a higher place, 
A piece of rising ground, and paused to look 
Along the Road he had of late forsook. 
He saw it winding far below o'er hills. 
Through vales, o'er fields, now lost 'mid wood- 
land rills, — 
Then wholly lost beyond his mem'ry's ken. 
Some scenes among the past were sweet, and 

then 
Were bright, — some of grief, some were dark 

and cold. 
The faces too of travelers of old 
He seemed to see, of those who dropped or fell. 
He saw one face, heard voice once sweetly swell 
In silver tone and now had passed away 
Amidst the sounds upon the great highway. 

He turned and went a little further on 
And came within a lovely wood anon. 
Between whose flowered banks the Road ran 

straight. 
On either hand the trees rose high and great 
Amidst the berried brake and blossoms gay, 
A wilderness wherein to pause. He lay 
Within the shade and breathed the scented air. 
And listened to the woodland voices rare. 
Though mortals cannot understand the words, 
[142] 



The gentle murmurs charm the soul, as stirred 
By mystic tones of wind among the boughs, 
And songs of little feathered lovers' vows, 
And babbling brooks that ring a silver chime 
To fairy voices of the woodland's clime. 

"Hark to the woodland chorus ! 
The passing wind through swaying bough, 

Ripple of brooklets joyous, 
The ringing chimes of Nature's vow. 

"Hark to the voices dulcet ! 
The mystic tones of creatures wild 

Floating on breeze at sunset 
The dying hours of day beguiled. 

"Peace to the weary-hearted ! 
The songs of the woodlands sweet and rare, 

Mem'ries of those now parted, 
Return upon the scented air. 

"Softly the silv'ry starlight 
Reveals the woods' inverted scene, 

Etching the whole at midnight 
And lily on her bed of green. 

"Hushed is tlie noise resounding! 
Afar from roads and busy streets, 

Lost in the woods surrounding 
Amid wild Nature's veil'd retreats. 
[143] 



"Hark to the woodland chorus ! 
The hidden voices 'voke repose ; 

Hark to the murm'ring Notus 
That softly blows through woods' wild 
rose." 

So to this man the woods their call then made 
Inviting him to loiter in their shade, 
While voices seemed to echo soft the wind 
Of "Welcome, stranger ! come, thy resting find !" 
He paused and gazed about with yearning look, 
The lovely tangle sought to pierce, and brook 
The mystic depths and what therein be found, 
And strained his ears to catch the woodland 

sound. 
And then it was he saw her 'midst the green, 
Reclining on the bank in slumber's screen ; 
Of shapely form, but clothes that spoke of toil 
And traveling. A foot peeped out, a spoil, 
Beneath the hem, quite white but bruised and 

bare, 
Received while on the march. Her face was 

fair 
As lilies white, and rested on her arm. 
While scattered locks, like night, did add their 

charm, 
Which lay upon the neck and snowy breast 
That rose and fell beneath the silken vest; 
And on her cheek were stains of recent tears 
Which also told their tale of pain and fears. 
[144] 



The Traveler drew near to feast his eyes 
On sleeping loveliness beneath the skies ; 
And as he gazed, her eyes did open wild 
And looked full into his with wonder mild. 
He saw how large they were — of chestnut 

brown — 
Her face was lit as stars which evening crown, 
Reflected in the silent woodland pool ; 
And as the lake is Nature's mirror cool, 
So were her eyes the mirror of her soul 
And showed the purity within the bowl. 
And as he looked a feeling came and grew 
That thrilled his very being through and 

through : 
The wish to take her in his arms and kiss 
The teardrop stains away, and oh ! the bliss 
To heal the tender little foot, and then 
To lead her safely o'er the road and fen. 
And shield her from the winds of winter bleak. 
So gently then he let his feeling speak: 

"Fear not, fear not, thou little one ! 

A wounded bird art thou. 
Bruised by the stones on Time's rough way, 

And show the scars ere now. 

"The stains upon thy lovely face 

Are from internal wounds, 
But how received, or by whom struck, 

I pray thee, love, expound. 
[145] 



"Thou seest me here and free of heart ; 

I, too, am of the Road. 
Physician I to thee would be ; 

Thy griefs to me unload. 

"My heart with love goes out to thee, 
Come take me for thine own ! 

And let me comfort, aid my love 
With love that's deeply sown ; 

"And from now on we'll go as one, 
Each other's cares will share ; 

If one should trip the other will 
The falling one upbear. 

"Amid the throng that journey on 

And countless follow Time, 
I have for long been all alone 

For lack of love sublime. 

"In all that time I ne'er saw one 
That with thee could compare ; 

Or could in me my love awake 
As thou, my lily fair. 

"I pledge my love and service true 

To thee, my lovely maid ! 
And pray that thou wilt answer me 

And do not be afraid." 

[146] 



The maid sat up and still in wonder looked 
Upon the man who chance had brought un- 

looked 
So suddenly, while wrapped in slumber sound; 
And then the lovely eyes dropped down and 

found 
Themselves beneath the lids, like roseleaves pink ; 
And then her head hung down, her form did 

shrink ; 
Her face within the little hands did hide 
As if to shield it from his love and pride 
That shone so strong upon her from his eyes, 
As bright and brave as noonday sun in skies. 
But not for long! She soon looked up, and 

held 
Her arms towards him. A new-bom light then 

swelled 
And sparkled, gleamed from out the nut-brown 

eyes. 
While perfect happiness then beautifies 
Her face, so sweet, so pure, so wondrous fair. 
Her dainty lips were parted in a rare 
Sweet smile, as bright as any bow above. 

With joyous cry he forward sprang with love. 
And dropped beside the maid, her form em- 
braced. 
And on her rosy lips a kiss then pressed. 
Against his breast she found a resting-place, 
And laid her downy cheek against his face. 

[147] 



Then to the forest sounds another came, 
So soft and low it scarcely could acclaim 
Except by him ; 'twas for his ears alone. 
'Twas like a distant running brook o'er stone, 
That murmured as it wandered through the 

wood. 
Its song, as borne on forest breeze, held good; 
The louder first, then faintly died away 
As drowned by noise, or led by space astray : 

"Listen while I tell my tale ! 

It is so small and little. 
Like a tiny creeping snail 

Quite lost amidst the bustle. 

"Amidst the crowds on yonder way 

Alone I toiled in safety; 
Until a set was made one day 

Against my peace most crafty. 

"I struggled hard against my foe, 
I sought to gain my freedom. 

I cried for help to overthrow 
The enemy so loathsome. 

"Then pushed and pulled I struck a stone, 
'Twas one of disappointment ; 

I reeled and tottered here alone 
In search of rest and ointment. 

[148] 



"I fell upon this bank of green 
And passed away in slumber; 

And in my dream I there have seen 
The one I still remember. 

"On waking up I saw my dream 

Was not alone a vision, 
For thou didst come, a living theme — 

I welcome this provision. 

"And oh, the look that met my sight 
From eyes so true and tender 

Just set my heart to beat with fright 
And filled my mind with wonder. 

"Ah, now I tremble with the love 
Aroused — no longer sleeping — 

Ah, hark to voices ring above, 
No sounds of pain or weeping. 

"Great joy has come and filled my heart 
With love for thee, my bonny; 

Now take me so we ne'er will part 
While faring on our journey." 

With loving looks he gently raised her head ; 
A kiss upon the snowy brow then shed, 
And sought to soothe and comfort her with 

speech 
For wounded foot which mutely called a leech. 
[149] 



Then up he sprang to search for healing balm, 
And said he would return ; and she was calm. 
Forthwith he plunged within the woodland 

brake. 
A charming glade he came to overtake, 
And this byway he followed far and fast, 
Until an open space appeared at last, 
And where the sea did dash against its crest 
Just as the sun was 'bout to kiss the west. 

DYING DAY 

The sun hangs low in the western sky. 
And soon the hour will come for Day to 

die — 
To pass away in giving birth to Night 
Amidst the glory of golden beams of light. 

Hark to the ringing vesper's bell, 

Sounding the passing knell, 

Rising and falling swell. 

The shadows gather on the hills and plain 
And deepen as the Day begins to wane ; 
But still are pierced by failing golden beam 
As the passing Day becomes a dream. 

Listen to the evening chime 

Calling out the time. 

Day has passed his prime. 

'Tis gone ! among the many thousand years 
It sleeps forgot ; thy deed alone appears 
[150] 



A golden shaft its mem'ry to recall 
In future days and nightly slumber's hall. 
Hark to the silver echo's sound. 
Chimes of the Day rebound 
From walls in mem'ry found. 

The summit blazed with brilliant colored 
flow'rs 
Whose swaying head tops beckoned him to 

bow'rs, 
Inviting him to join their dance — reached out 
T'ward him, drew back, and bowed with laugh- 
ing shout, 
In one voluptuous call. The wind that blew 
Through them would strange narcotic scent im- 
bue 
Which strangely sought to overcome his eyes. 
With fascination he this scene espies 
And then sinks down on woodland's edge awhile, 
As Drowsiness approached to reconcile 
His weary senses into sweet repose. 
While voices understandable arose: 

POPPIES 

Come, oh come, and dance with us 

Beneath the starry sky ! 
Woodland's music plays the waltz 
For us to dance thereby. 
Swaying, swaying to and fro, to and fro, 
Back and forth, back and forth, we ever go, 
[151] 



And toss our heads and bend them low, 

With now and then a kiss 
On the faces sweet when passing by ; 

The Poppies dancing — this. 

Come, oh come, and join with us 

And breathe our perfume rare ! 
Born to soothe, forget thy woes 
And chase away despair. 
Blowing, blowing here and there, here and 

there, 
Up and down, up and down, upon the air. 
Ha-o-ha ! we laugh and dance 

Throughout the day and night. 
Ha-o-ha ! a merry time 
Beneath the starry light. 

SUNSET 

On the mystic western line 

I stand in white and gold. 
Glorify, transform the sky — 
A brilliant temple mold. 
Flashing, flashing, hither, thither, dart 

o'er all — 
Woodlands, sea-sands, dancing waves and 
mountain wall ; 
Shooting golden darts of light. 

Farewell to what was then one 
Day and now about to pass 
With me, the setting Sun. 
[152] 



Deepened shadows now I send 
O'er woodlands, flowered field, 

Painting all in magic light, 
Fantastic pictures yield; 

Sketching, painting mystic scenes on sky — 
Tinting, pinking clouds and mountain 
high — 
Building magic fortress wall 

On floating clouds of black and white, 
Golden stones and silver clay 
And tints of royal purple light. 

THE SEA 

Loudly roll upon the land, 
I thunder on the rocks; 
Proudly toss my whitened crests 
In answer to their mocks. 
Spouting, spouting, all along the clifFs I 

roam, 
Roar and bore a mighty mass of churning 
foam; 
Bit by bit I eat my way 

And change the shape of shore ; 
Often swallow swimming things 
That once my bosom bore. 

TWILIGHT 

Sun there's none, nor moon, nor stars. 
So for a little space 
[153] 



Twilight holds her quiet sway 
With softened sweet embrace. 
Slowly going, gently passing out, I fade, 
Gloaming, roaming, precious moments lov- 
ers' shade. 
Little creatures call their mates 
From field or woodland tree; 
Travelers then seek repose 
And pause to bend to me. 

NIGHT 

Goddess of rest I reign supreme 

O'er woodland's mere and field; 
Dark and cold some think I am, 
While some to beauty yield. 
Starry light, starry bright o'er landscape 

spread. 
White festoons from silver moon I paint 
o'erhead ; 
Hushed are the voices of the wild 
When darkened shadows grow; 
Louder sings the running brook. 
As Night the sounds o'erthrow. 

Neither am I all alone. 

For, hid from eyes of man, 
Fairy people play and dance, 
A mystic caravan. 
Glowing flies and showing skies all sparkle 
bright, 

[154] 



Will-o'-wisp that fills the crisp, low lands 
with light ; 
Beasts and things which prey at night 

Are all that cause unrest. 
Silvered lakes and whitened peaks 
My glory manifest. 

As Night advanced her presence brought a 

change 
To sleeper's rest; he woke, arose with strange 
Sensation born of dull narcotic scent, 
And all his being filled with argument. 
Whose hidden meaning preyed upon his mind 
And wonder grew with objects thus divined. 

He gathered leaves from poppies bright 
And then essayed the maid to find aright 
And dress her wound with Nature's ointment 

strange. 
But Night had brought on still another 

change — 
The woods brought forth fantastic shadowed 

race 
Which killed the former semblance of the 

place — 
Confused the Traveler, him doubting made, 

So that he wandered from the flowered glade 
And found him lost amidst the forest quite. 
He struggled on in dim uncertain light, 
With bruises caused by fallen wood, and torn 
By branches, caught by vines and wooded thorn. 
[155] 



He came a-sudden down to water's shore 
Which shimmered 'neath the Night's inverted 

floor, 
A placid woodland lake whose wavelets sang 
As borne by breeze they gently lapped and rang. 

THE LAKE 

I sing of woodland mysteries 

Retold by babbling brooks. 
The secrets of the woods are mine, 

Unknown to learned books. 

Inverted pictures too I show 

And faces of the wild, 
While lilies grow in shaded nooks 

And clouds of heaven piled, 

Then things which live beneath my waves, 
And things which swim above. 

And things wliich drown from time to time ; 
Hide secrets, too, of love. 

A golden bowl I am at morn, 

And sparkle then at noon ; 
Or sweet and still mid twilight's shade, 

With silver sheen 'neath moon. 

In summer storms or autumn blasts, 
When sun and moon are hid 

By clouds, and mountain winds hold sway, 
Then colors dull bestride 
[156] 



My face, while whitened crests uprear 

In anger fierce and strong; 
And then beneath the ice and snow 

I sleep through winters long. 

Oh, joy when Spring's awakening touch 

Releases me from bond. 
And warms my waters with her kiss 

And by embraces fond — 

To see all Nature then awake 

And don a gala dress — 
Once more to greet the running stream, 

And lily sweet caress. 

That such a fairy picture could be made 
Sui'prised the Traveler, and it repaid 
Somewhat, but still uncertain of the way. 
He sought familiar signs which doubts allay. 
Oh, hark ! what is that weird and mournful cry. 
That rings about from branches up on high.'' 

THE OWL 

Hoo-oo-oo ! Hoo-oo-oot I 
Throughout the night I fly and hoot. 

Wise of eye, with knowing looks, 
I roam through wood and over brooks, 



[157] 



Seeking prey that sleep at night, 
For I can see while they can't quite. 
Day's the time for me to rest 
From further seeking of my quest. 

Hoo-oo-oot ! Hoo-oo-oo ! 
The many things that people do 
On the great highway beyond 
Where some are gay and some despond, 

Brooding where no eye can see ; 
But there above upon a tree 
They forget the Owl Wise 
Can see by night — mayhap advise. 

Hoo-oo-oot ! Hoo-oo-oo ! 
I now will fly the woodland through 
Toward the Road once more and see 
If naught thereon can be for me. 

Forthwith the Owl then left the tree and flew 
Toward the man who kept the bird in view, 
And by his aid the Road once more he found. 
He called the maid, but heard from her no 

sound. 
And searched both here and there with anxious 

mind; 
But not a trace of her could he there find. 
Could Time have picked her up and borne her 

on.? 

[158] 



Could she alone of her free will have gone? 
The place where she had lain and slept he found 
A bloodstain, too, he saw upon the ground; 
'Twas from her wounded little foot, he thought ! 
Could she to greater trial then be brought? 
Poor child ! and then bethought him of the 

wound 
Fresh made upon his happiness, new found. 
And then he thought she would have shared his 

Road; 
Together they would plod and bear the load. 
Both side by side, and hand in hand, one pair; 
And now, she vanished from his sight in air. 
The mem'ry of her presence and caress, 
The softness of her touch and gentleness, 
Recurred to him and clung like climbing vine 
On yonder stump of ancient broken pine. 
In great despair his pent-up feelings spoke 
And sleeping forest echoes stirred and woke : 

SHALL NE'ER FORGET 

"Moaning sea and sighing of wind. 
Sounds below, and even sounds above : 

Through the day's invaded delight 
Swiftly ran the tide against our love. 
Sad were your eyes as could be ; 
Sad was my heart ; 
Sad rang the sea beyond ; 



[159] 



Time of parting moments of grief, 

How the gladness died through happy 
hours, 
And the fleeting minutes were speeding; 
How our hearts were closer drawn to- 
gether ! 
Sad were your eyes as the mist. 
We have toiled, my love — 
Oh, we have loved, my love. 

"Frost has bound our river of Joy ; 
Shall we forget because the ice has come? 

Hide the water's inverted array ; 

Softly fell the whitened cloudlike foam; 

Hushed are the voices we love, 

Hushed 'neath the screen; 

Hushed now the ripples' song. 

Time for sleeping mem'ries awake ! 

How the pictured dreams recall the past 
And returning visions reviving, 

How forget my love's caress and sweet- 
ness ! 
Hushed now thy voice for a time. 
We have lived before — 
We have loved the more. 

"Something hovers 'round and about. 
Veiled within the mystic mist unseen. 

Fairy lightness and sounding unknown 
Through the days made sweet serene. 
[160] 



still as the silence unbroke — 
Still ever near — 
Still will thy love remain. 
Ne'er forget thy loving caress — 
How its mem'ry thrills me through and 
through — 
And affections silent appealing. 
How forget thy touching devotion ! 
Still flows the current of love, 
Smoothly, dear, as yore — 
Always, love, the more. 

"Never shall forget thee, my own, 
Never can forget thy loving face, 
Sweetest lily of floating repose 
Through the days in water's embrace. 
Sweet is the mem'ry I love — 
Sweet is the flow'r — 
Sweet is thy name to me. 
Time will ever weld the esteem. 

How the darkness came within my heart 
And the twilight deepened at parting — 
How the sorrow came at evening sunset! 
Sweet was your smile as the rose. 
Shall ne'er forget, my own — 
Shall ever love, my love." 

He let his head sink down upon his breast 
And with dejected mien renewed the quest 
As onward on the Road he trudged alone. 
[161] 



The lovely wilderness he left anon, 
Bisected by the many byways small, 
Enchanting by their looks, enticing call, 
But leading oft to harm and penitence. 
As he had learned from sad experience. 
He had by now arrived at open land 
Without success, when Night would soon dis- 
band. 
It was a dreary place with comers four! 
No sign was there to point the way afore. 
To take the right or left or forward go 
He could not tell, nor how was he to know.'' 
So paused awhile. The left-hand branch ran 

through 
A heathered moor, and scattered brake there 

grew. 
Refreshing in its look — the right-hand road 
Toward a rough and rugged hill which showed 
Yet harder than the one just left behind — 
The one ahead by space was rendered blind. 
And one could gain no inkling of its grade. 
With doubting anxious mind his plaint then 
made : 

"Oh where art thou, my long-lost one.? 

On which of these art thou alone.? 
Or have I lost thee now for good.? 

Ah, is there no real likelihood.? 



162] 



"I've searched in vain along the way, 
But thou hast vanished, gone astray 

I know not where, nor can none tell. 
Oh, who can now my fears dispel? 

"I've called and called to thee by name, 

And yet no answer came 
To please my ears with answering call. 

Nor glimpse of thee there came withal. 

"I cry in pain to powers great 

To aid me find my vanished mate — 

To show me now which road to take 
And speed me I may her o'ertake." 

And thus it was he vented his despair 
And cried out loud to powers of the air; 
And when his voice had ceased then all was still 
Except the breeze amidst the brake or rill. 
The rustle of the flowered heather sweet. 
But lo! an answering call came faint and fleet, 
Mayhap the voices of the moor awoke 
At his sad cry and then their message spoke : 

"They come like water flowing 

And know not whither; 
Or as the wind a-blowing 

From yonder hither. 



[163] 



"They go like down from flower 

Now blown by Zephyr, 
Or swept by summer shower, 

A floating wafer 

"Upon Life's rapid — swimming 

Without a helmsman ! 
The reefs and shadows skimming — 

Both man and woman. 

"If thou dost seek for guidance, 

Give heed to dawning, 
And exercise thy prudence 

By light of morning. 

"All things are fresher, brighter, 

In moments early. 
And not for those who loiter 

Or slumber dearly." 

All strange and scarcely understood by him, 
The meaning of the words of moorland's hymn ; 
But as he looked he saw at once that Night 
Was now about to journey out of sight — 
That Dawn appeared to stand in eastern sky. 
His summons ring to all of sleepy eye. 



[164] 



DAWN 

Awake ! for lo, the lamp of Day 

Is lit and placed within the sky ! 

Already glows the eastern way 

And speeds the Morning Star good-by. 

Awake ! the Hunter of the East 
Has cast his shaft of golden light, 
And pierced the site of early feast 
For all to rise and make their fight. 

Awake ! for Dawn's right hand is raised 

And holds aloft the golden ball ! 

While Nature cries: "Let Day be 

praised ! 
Now eat and drink — rejoice ye all!" 

Awake ! thou Sleeper, from thy dream 
And face thy long hard Road again ! 
To-day thy vision by the stream 
Mayhap is true and ne'er will wane. 

Then as the moments passed behold the Day ! 
The darkened shadows slowly stole away, 
Ashamed to let their presence seen by him ; 
And one by one the forms of things once grim 
Took shape. The mists which hung above the 

moor 
Then take to wing and slowly upwards soar, 
[165] 



A fleecy cloud which soon became quite lost 
In brightening void of heaven's vault acrossed. 
The lake amidst the woodland fastness tight 
Gives forth a steam-like vapor thin and white, 
As warming air the cooler waters mark ; 
Also from out the forest deep and dark 
The giants of the woods appear full-grown, 
And timid creatures of the wild come down 
To drink and raise their heads towards the 

Dawn. 
And give their thanks in speechless words at 

mom. 
The lily on her floating bed of green 
Her petals opened out, threw off^ the screen ; 
Exposed her golden heart to Day's warm light. 
And other flowers too raised up in sight, 
Who not so long ago bowed down to Night, 
While little feathered creatures voiced delight 
At Dawn's approach with joyous serenade. 
The things that roamed about in darkened 

shade 
Slunk off in depths, or hid in dens like night. 
Afraid of him who makes the whole world 

bright. 
And as the Dawn the golden ball upraised 
'Midst flashing golden flame, the heavens 

praised — 
Exchanged the leaden sky of ancient Night 
To one of beauty, red and yellow light ; 
Proclaimed the advent of another day 
[166] 



Which promised fair to those upon the way, 
And set their hearts to beat with glad delight. 
An omen ! Night for them had passed from 
sight. 

The Traveler who stood at crossroads four 
Believed a fairer scene ne'er lived before, 
And as he turned to view the distant road 
His eye was caught by vision fair which showed 
Amidst the way and beckoned him to come — 
An angel white with hair of golden shade, 

Which o'er her shoulders fell in rippling 
wave — 
Whose eyes for blue the southern seas outbrave 
Were set in features soft and tender, true — 
Sincerity and truth will these imbue. 

HE 

Who, then, art thou. 
Standing amidst yon way? 

Resplendent bow. 
In dazzling sweet display ! 

SHE 

Obey my call and hither come, 
For I am sent to be the one 
To lead thee forward on the Road, 
And aid thee bear thy heavy load. 



[167] 



HE 

Oh, fairest maid, 
Angel of glowing Dawn ! 

Do not evade — 
Tell me, a worthless pawn, 

From whence you come — 
Whither this Road does lead ; 
And speak thy name ! 
Now for my lost one plead ! 

SHE 

Away and from a falling star. 
And sent by Powers great that are 
In answer to your earnest call — 
To sustain you lest you fall. 

Now love and happiness lies there 
Beyond for him to find whene'er 
He strives the Road to gain withal; 
'Tis hard for some to walk or crawl. 

'Tis rough and rugged, hot and cold. 
But then some shaded spots enfold 
The Road, and I am Hope — august; 
I have as comrades, Courage, Trust, 

Who wait for us some further on. 
Thy hand in mine we go anon ! 
The Road behind is Wealth, Success ; 
'Tis not for us to so digress. 
[168] 



HE 

What! turn my back — 
Leave all the wealth behind! 

Pursue this track, 
Goddess fair ! 0, how unkind ! 

Upon which way 
Find I my long-lost one? 

Oh, lead, I pray, 
On the same Road she's gone ! 

SHE 

Behold the sun advances fast 
Along his path in heavens vast ! 
Thy hand in mine we journey on! 
'Tis what the Powers ruled upon. 

No more said he but placed his hand in hers ; 
Together then they passed among the firs, 
He wond'ring should his lost one ever find. ' 

He often looked at Hope as day declined. 
And many times she eased his march that day, 
First here and there, and then by some one way. 
And yet again he looked at Hope and thought, 
Had not some change o'er face and mien been 

brought ? 
Perhaps it was a shade of waning day. 
But there she trudged so patiently o'er way. 
His side she touched — still firmly grasped his 
hand, 

[169] 



But yet it seemed the change did still expand. 
Her form was less, her hair had darker grown, 
Her eyes as well — to now a deeper brown, 
But still so tender, true, as now she gazed 
At him and urged him on ; and then quite dazed 
He stopped and held her back, while Hope her 

head 
Held down, but peeped beneath the eyelid shed, 
While he expressed his rapture then apace. 
And great surprise was spread upon his face : 

HE 

From thy fair lips I understood 

Thy name was Hope — an angel 
Sent by Powers great and good, 
, Their messenger archangel ! 

But who thou art I know not quite; 

Thy form appears familiar, 
Thy hair has changed and darkened 
slight — 
Thy eyes are not peculiar. 

Thy features, too, I've seen before 
Methinks along the roadside; 

And fast asleep on grassy floor 
Beside the wooded wayside. 



[170] 



My long-lost one ! I know thee now, 
But tell me true, my dearest. 

If I see right or wrong, and how 
I lost thee at the forest? 

'Tis long I've sought for thee, my bride, 
Through woodlands, field and dark- 
ness ; 

Among the throngs on every side. 
Amid the wayside rankness. 

Rejoice do I with all my heart 
To find thee as day waning! 

No longer now with gladness part 
Through darkened hours pining. 

No longer will the Night hold sway 
Because thou art the sunlight ; 

Forever now along the way 

Thy presence shines as daylight. 

And now to know my long-lost maid 
And Hope are one together! 

But how came you to be my aid 
And meet me near the heather? 

SHE 

Yea, a fallen star am I ! 
That dropped upon the wooded glade 

Out of yonder vaulted sky 

And came to be thy loving maid. 

[171] 



Softly shining, glowing, far above, 
Softly falling, gleaming through the air, 
Across thy path, 
A very faith 
Sent by Powers to be thine own. 

Together now we'll ever be, 
Side by side and ne'er alone ; 
I cling to thee and thou to me! 
To live and love. 
To love and live. 

Yea, a fallen star am I ! 
That fell from heaven to thy brave heart. 

Keep me there, dear one, I cry, 
And ne'er again to live apart ! 
Lightly blowing, going on our way, 
Lightly speeding, heeding through our 
lives ; 
With hand in hand 
A step o'er land — 
Suffer none to come between — 

A barrier of stone. 
Or pain or grief to intervene — 
Joy and perfect peace dethrone. 
But live and love. 
But love and live. 



[172] 



BOTH 

Yea, a comet and a star, 
That dart across the heaven's space! 

Show our flaming track afar, 
A streak on sky's inverted face, 
Brightly sliding, gliding, far away, 
Brightly showing, going down to earth. 
As one we meet, 
Forever sweet, 
On the Road to Love and Bliss. 
We hark beneath our loves' bright sun ! 

Daylight ne'er will be amiss. 
Because our hearts are bound in one. 
E'er live and love. 
E'er love and live. 

A wann embrace, on lips a loving kiss — 
These two set out on Road to Love and Bliss, 
With Night dispersed by Dawn's great lamp of 

love, 
A light that shines for travelers above 
Who wend their way o'er Life's hard stony 

Road 
In dust or mud, and bowed beneath their load. 
Oh ! well it is for those who come to know 
Their own as soon as Dawn begins to glow ; 
Their Day the longer, sweeter lives and grows ; 
Their Love more joyful, smoother runs and 

flows. 

[173] 



THE ATTAINMENT 

OR 

THE INCENTIVE AND PURSUIT OF A 

NOBLE PURPOSE 



IN LIEU OF PREFACE 

Indulgence from my readers all 
For this short tale of Youth 

Is what I crave. Perhaps the call 
Still echoes sounds of truth; 

Resounding on thy mem'ry's wall 
In some degree of ruth. 

Mayhap thy quest is not begun 

But sleeps beside Life's stream; 

Or in thy sky as noonday sun 
Is but thy thought supreme. 

Perhaps thy Purpose is now won 
And left thy quest a dream. 

But all the same 'tis blossom sweet, 
E'en though a roseleaf dried; 

A Vision, or a quest complete: 
A man, or maid bright-eyed. 

Who on Life's Road might meet, 
And yes or no replied. 

To thou, my Purpose very dear. 
Who helped me this to write, 

And led me through my vale sans fear 
In glory of thy light, 

Thou queenly maid without a peer, 
This tale I now indite. 



[176] 



THE ATTAINMENT 

Behold: Once spread about, in very truth, 
Was nothing else save wilderness of Youth — 
On every hand it reached in beauty rare. 
Its inmate was of princely presence fair, 
In utter idleness there lived and grew — 
Yea, moped — cared naught for yonder lovely 

view 
That lay before his eyes across the vale 
To mounts of Future's range, that shimmered 

pale 
Because of the uncertain mist which hid 
Its shape from mortal eye, but still that bid 
Most fair to one who would its summit seek. 

Alas, just now this Prince of Youth was weak. 
Ambitions slept — perhaps they pictured dreams 
Of nothing more save Life's sweet, pleasant 

streams 
That flowed so gently through the flowered mead 
Of early days, yet surely will but lead. 
Unconsciously, to Future's mountain range. 

One day he thought he saw an object strange, 
But indistinct, upon the distant hills ; 
And curiosity awakes and fills 
His mind with wonder. "Strange, what can 

this be.?" 
He thought, and tlicn arose and tried to see. 
But lo, it disappeared ; yet all the same 
He saw it in his mind, but could not name 
[177] 



The thing he saw. Still day by day he looked 
Toward the place, and Patience scarce he 

brooked 
Until he saw once more, and somewhat near, 
His Vision — yea, a maiden, sweet and dear. 
Her eyes with fond entreaty then were filled; 
With mystic pow'r his very being thrilled 
With glances flashed from depths of sapphire 

blue. 
While on her brow a golden crown there grew, 
Composed of locks with softness of fair silk; 
Her skin as velvet soft, and white as milk. 
Her face was fair and strong, of noble mien; 
Her rounded form had presence of a queen. 
And there she stood upon a height and gazed 
Toward the awestruck youth ; then slowly raised 
Her snowy arm and pointed to the vale and 

mount ; 
Yea, sought by smiles for him to take account 
Of all that lay so fair beneath his feet. 
But he in fear could not her glances meet. 
And yet unconsciously he forward stepped 
Quite slowly, and his eyes were downward kept. 
At length he raised his head toward the spot 
On which she stood; but lo, she there was not. 
He paused transfixed ; but ardor was awake. 
And fear was banished from his mind. His 

lake 
Gave birth to lily wondrous sweet and fair. 
Determined to possess this floAver rare, 
[ITS] 



He sought forthwith the valley to traverse. 
Incentive was aroused, and no reverse 
Could stop him now the mystic maid attain. 

Alas, he little knew how hard to gain 
Yon height it was. The lovely vale between, 
From Youth's standpoint, was naught but 

meadows green ; 
The stony roads, and streams were silver 

threads ; 
Dark forests only seemed like leafy spreads 
To Youth about to start upon his search — 
Perhaps to only find an empty perch — 
But Incentive is a power strong 
In combat with one's foes or with a wrong. 
So daunted not, he went upon his way. 
And strove with many hardships day by day, 
His Vision 'pearing seldom to his sight. 
So strong the fascination of the fight. 
So clearly fixed her picture in his mind. 
And so intent to ascertain her kind. 
He strove with all his might to gain the crest 
Before a thought would give to seek a rest. 
He came at length to brink of raging stream. 
And there across he saw his lovely Dream — 
Yea, close enough for words to reach her ears, — 
And so he spoke, forgetting his old fears : 

"Who art thou.? What then canst thou be. 
Fairest Vision of my youth. 
Clothed in robes of very truth, 

[179] 



Who haunts and draws me on to thee — 
Awoke my Thought, and thou the key; — 
Opened vistas, scenes unknown, 
Mystic, vague — my being own — 
To battle calls upon Life's sea?" 

Encouragement was writ upon her face. 

And thus she spoke the answer from her place: 

"Behold the glory of the early Dawn. 

Great Hunter of the East 
Arose and caught the turret of the Mom 

With noose of golden feast; 
Revives all life by marvels of his light, 

And wakes with beams of fire 
Thy Thought — drives forth fair, somber, 

star-clad Night 
With freshened new Desire. 

"Behold, 'neath glory of the early Dawn 

Bright diamond drops of dew 
Upon the meads and growing leaves of com — 

Upon a rose-vine grew. 
An empty bough thou wert, and now with 
flow'r 

New-bom in silent Night, 
Appears enchanting in the early hour. 

But frail, and very slight. 



[180] 



"And lo, the glory of the early Dawn 

Reveals thy Purpose' sun; 
A fragrant rose upon Youth's tree, new-born. 

Thy life, but just begun. 
Is touched by me with gentle drops of love; 

Will grow thy future pride 
Beneath the blessings sent from Him above — 

Thy welfare e'er provide. 

"And lo, the glory of another Dawn 

May see thy Purpose won. 
When thou Avilt for thy present hardships 
mourn ; 

But 'ware Temptation's son 
Whom thou wilt often meet upon thy road, 

Divert from me thy thought. 
And greater burden place upon thy load; 

With strength he must be fought." 

She ceased — yet still he stood in wonder rapt — ' 
Could scarcely understand what spring she 

tapped ; 
And e'er he could again a question frame 
She vanished from his sight, yea, just the same 
As oft before, like mist 'neath morning sun. 
But left refreshing drops on grass and flow'r. 
Then understanding came and grew each 

hour — 
Became the knowledge that this wondrous maid 
Disclosed herself his Purpose, aye, his aid — 
[181] 



And straight away resolved within himself 
That naught would stay the capture of this 

elf; 
For lo, Incentive grew to be a part 
Of him, and youth gave place to manhood's 

start, 
As once again he sought to pierce the vale 
E'er filled with fascination, changing dale. 
Thus Resolution came to be his guide 
To help him o'er Life's lovely landscape wide. 
In full pursuit of her, his wondrous quest, 
He set a sterner face toward the west. 
The land of setting sun and glowing gold. 
The goal of Egypt's might in days of old. 

That stern old Captain of all life and things. 
Who ne'er has paused, but ever speeds with 

wings 
More fleet than swallows gliding through the 

air 
On summer's eve, or darting here and there. 
Had brought the Seeker further on his way ; 
Yea, placed the scars of many hard-fought fray 
Upon his face still set toward the west 
In hard pursuit of his fair, wondrous quest. 
At many unexpected times she showed 
Herself to him, and but to point the road. 
And never spoke, except with loving eyes; 
But 'twas enough to raise him to the skies, 
And keep alive within his breast Desire: 
[182] 



To send him on refreshed through mead and 

mire, 
The more determined he to gain this maid. 
On one warm, windless eve, while he had 

stayed 
Beneath a tree, behold a Star came down 
To him ; and lo, 'twas she, his wished for crown ; 
So close he touched her, held her in embrace. 
And laid his cheek against her pure white face, 
And breathed the perfume from her golden hair. 
Alas, he slipped; and e'er he could repair 
The fault she sped away and vanished quite; 
And nothing else was left except to fight 
Anew, and knowledge, too, that she was real. 
And through long days he could her kisses feel ; 
But still he felt his disappointment sore, 
And words from sad and broken heart did pour : 

"Oh, woe is me: 

And all for naught 

Did seek I thee. 

And hardships fought 
All through each day — yea, every hour — ' 
With strength e'er backed by weight of 

pow'r. 
And yet with sweetness of a flow'r. 

Upon Life's sea 

A lock is wrought, 

And thou the quay 

I long have sought. 
[183] 



"One step, one slip, 

And all is lost; 

Yea, kiss from lip 

The smallest cost 
One pays for slipping in the mire — 
And Purpose is the great desire 
That sets one's thoughts arid life on fire — 

Ambition's whip 

O'er shoulders crossed 

With crack and snip 

For what is lost." 

Then Resolution took a firmer grip 

Upon his hand, and Patience kissed his lip; 

And so in time he found himself within 

A wilderness of houses and its din, 

The like of which he ne'er before had seen. 

Rough streets were there in place of glades of 

green. 
Some long and broad, some narrow, bent, and 

blind ; 
And filled with sights to dazzle eye and mind; 
With people, shops, the roar of traffic's noise — 
All stole away his sense of quiet poise. 
And swallowed up the Seeker in its maw, 
As drop of rain is lost in well e'ermore — 
A wilderness where strength is often weak 
And wealth the stealthy game its hunters seek; 
And then a social station too is sought, 
And if not theirs by birth, 'tis often bought; 
[184] 



Where bright plumed flocks of Pleasure soared 

or perched, 
For whom their many hunters always searched 
By day and through the night, — where stars 

are lost 
In brilliance of the light as white as frost, — 
Where one forgot fair Night was ever bom, — 
Yea, laughs at Day, nor for his passing mourn. 
Through all this strange, bewild'ring wilder- 
ness 
The Seeker sought his maid through streets 

and press. 
O weary, weary hours of search and grief. 
With here and there a glimpse that gave re- 

hef 
Somewhat, but Disappointment would return. 
And there Temptation stood at every turn. 
And with his Resolution always fought 
To steal away the Vision of his Thought. 

One eve, when Resolution was quite worn 
With constant battle since the early mom. 
Temptation seized the Seeker's hand and 

brought 
Him to a place in white and gold work wrought, 
Made brilliant by the varied colored light. 
And pushed aside a door; and lo, the sight 
That met the Seeker's eyes was one to send 
His noble Thought afar; yea, make him bendr 
Salute Temptation as his evening host. 
Forgetting he was but an evil ghost. 
[185] 



It was a room as bright as noonday sun 
With vaulted roof of glass ; and more than 

one 
Lewd picture decked the walls between the 

lamps 
Above a row of couches, tempting camps. 
In front were tables laid with cloth and glass 
At which sat some men, each one with lass, 
With wine of sparkling gold, or purple, red. 
Confetti fell at times on cloth and head 
From balcony some distance from the floor, 
Which held a host of guests. As many more 
An open space within the center kept. 
Where girls, all gaudy clad, there danced and 

stepped 
To music gay in free, abandoned grace, 
And showed by far more secret charms than 

face 
Which was quite covered with their rouge and 

paint. 
The spirit living there was not restraint, 
For Lust and Vice were present everywhere, 
And Wine was king — his perfume filled the air 
And mingled with the words of jest and song, 
Of laughter from that gay and merry throng. 
The Seeker paused and gazed; but very soon 
A lovely wanton came and sought a boon. 
She drew the Seeker to an empty couch 
And seized a glass, then called on all to vouch 

[186] 



A welcome to the stranger newly come, 

And thus she sang while all the crowd sat dumb: 

"Come draw, come draw, my comrades all, 
The cork from rounded crystal wall ; 
Let loose the golden amber spring, 
The bottled laughter — Anything — 

Drink, drink, drink. 
Haste, fill mine glass and thine 
With wine, with laugliing, sparkling wine. 

Drink, drink, drink. 

"So fill, so fill, my comrades gay. 
Hurrah, we'll turn the night to day, 
And w^atch the golden bubbles rise, 
Then quaff the laughing, jesting prize. 

Clink, clink, clink. 
The touch of mine mth thine — 
Oh, top to top, and toe to toe. 

Clink, clink, clink. 

"Oh, drink, oh, drink, my comrades brave. 
Yea, show the heel of glass — a stave 
Of song to welcome stranger guest, 
And bid him seek with us his rest. 

Tink, tink, tink. 
Its lip to mine and thine — 
Oh, kiss for kiss and kiss for kiss. 

Tink, tink, tink. 

i[187] 



"Hurrah, hurrah, my comrades sweet. 
'Mid fun and song the wine we greet ; 
To-night for love and pleasure live, 
And rare caresses take and give. 

Drink, drink, drink. 
The crystal glass to lass — 
Oh, quaff the golden drops and laugh. 

Drink, drink, drink. 

She ceased ; but still she stood above them all 
Upon the couch with back against the wall, 
With brimming glass yet raised and laughing 

eyes. 
While bravo after bravo rent the skies 
Amid a new outburst of music loud. 
Again the dancing girls there showed the crowd 
Some fancy steps and kicks which made them 

laugh. 
The lovely wanton, stooping, sought to chaff 
The Seeker on his still unemptied glass. 
For he was too much taken with this lass 
To think of wine ; but when at last he did, 
It was because she kissed the cup and bid 
Him drink to her, and soft caressed his face 
With all the power of seductive grace. 
Then glass did follow glass, and dance with 

song. 
But once he turned his head, and in the throng 
He thought he saw his Vision standing there, 
Sad-eyed, with drooping head, dejected air. 
[188] 



He sprang upright — and lo, she must have 

gone — 
He saw his Purpose not again that morn. 
And still the dark-eyed wanton gave him wine, 
And pushed up close — yea, on him e'er did 

shine — 
Until at last he called upon his host: 
"Temptation, my friend, a toast, a toast !" 

"Begone, thou sterner Thought; 
For thou alone no place 
Is set, or welcome wrought. 
Yea, go and hide thy face. 

"To thou, fair Lust and Vice, 
I raise the liquid gold 
Of which thou art the spice 
And fruity flavor old. 

"To goddess of the dance 
I also raise and quaff. 
Thou dost not miss thy chance 
With smiling eye and laugh 

"To drive away dull care, 
And show thy rounded form 
In silken gauze like air. 
So yielding, soft and warm. 



[189] 



"And thou, my wanton maid, 
Whose Hps mine glass hath kissed — 
Whom in my embrace laid 
And in my youth have missed — 

"To-night I throw aside 
All else save wine and thee. 
And in thy arms will bide; 
Yea, let all else far flee. 

"So here's to mad, gay whirl; 
To music, lights and song; 
To wine and jolly girl; 
To merry night and throng. 

"Come, rise, and with me drink 
In red or golden wine; 
Of nothing else now think 
Save maid and fruit of vine." 

These words he spoke, and straightway back- 
ward fell 
Upon the couch beneath the wanton's spell. 
While plaudits rose about on every side 
Which pleased him mucli, intoxicating pride ! 
Now from a hidden door some floats ap- 
peared 
Drawn forth by beings like the satyrs weird, 
And filled with girls arrayed in all undress. 
Who gaily tossed bright flowers to the press 
[190] 



Amid their shouts and trumpets' brazen sound. 
Alas, some guests were wrapped in sleep pro- 
found, 
While some played with their drink beneath the 

cloth 
On floor contending with fair Bacchus' wrath; 
So lost this sweet and elevating sight 
Of living paint in silken lace and light. 
Of secret female garb and silken hose 
'Neath dark and golden hair, and cheeks like 
rose. 
'Twas then the Seeker, too, did fall asleep, 
And wanton kindly took him in her keep 
And cared for him until the hours grew 
To day ; how long it was he never knew. 
And then at last Remorse awoke his trance 
And set him free, and Sorrow brought a chance 
Which placed him once again in open air. 
And led him gently to a place, yea, where 
A wilderness of spires were raised on high, 
Of marble frescoed lace against the sky 
O'erlooked by statued pinnacles of saint 
And man made radiant by a touch of paint 
From sun's vast, mystic well of golden light. 
Above all these there stood on highest site 
The Virgin, clad in robes of purest gold. 
She glorifies the whole since days of old, 
All by the majesty her presence brings. 
In contrast rare to all those whitened things ; 
And, yea, the outside walls with figures 'domed, 
[191] 



Which put to blush the buildings 'round — yea, 

scorned — 
By countless numbers, and their sculptured 

art; 
But showed the dingy touch of Time in part. 
And scourge of weather, too, its scar there 

showed, 
Inflicted while the centuries slowly flowed. 
There, too, set in the walls were colored panes ; 
The windows stained with many scenes from 

lanes 
That led from lives of saint and from our Lord, 
Which turned their backs upon the paved street 

sward. 
Two massive doors of bronze in bas-relief 
Displayed the lives of Virgin, Christ in brief, 
And closed the way to center nave within. 
But also kept without all noise and din. 

The Seeker paused before this wondrous pile, 
And gazed with awe and rapture for a w hile ; 
Then asked within himself: "Why was this 

raised .P" 
And then the answer came: "His Name be 

praised, 
And to the glory of the living God. 
Oh come within ; oh come, all ye who plod 
Thy weary way ; repent in pray'r — yea, sing" — 
From many bells above in chiming ring. 
Aroused he sought the steps and found a door 
That gave within, and entered on its floor; 
[192] 



And there beheld the people on bent knee 

Before the shrines in groups of two or three: 

In clusters filled the naves with faces to 

The altar high, like statues, silent, who 

Yet lived and breathed, mere phantoms in the 

light 
Made dim by vastness of the place, yet bright 
With varied hues from tinted window panes 
Which cast their shades in spots of colored 

stains 
On floor, on walls, on mighty columns high 
Which hold the vaulted roof, and with each 

other vie 
In beauty of their sculptured capitals — 
Divide the naves. Their presence, yea, extols 
The church. Their shadows cast on recessed 

shrines 
Increased the darkness rent by lamp which 

shines 
Like yellow star, and flanked by some of red 
Like glowing drops of ruby on a bed 
Of ebon ; while beyond, there brightly glows 
A mass of candles on the altar, shows 
The ancient choir stalls beneath its feet. 
Placed right and left, with oaken back and 

seat 
Made black by time and polished by long wear. 

And now cathedral bells die out on air. 

Within, the church is filled with music sweet; 

Soft tones from depths of hidden organ meet 

[193] 



The ears, and distant voices, drawing nigh, 
Grow stronger in processional filing by. 
Composed of sweet-voiced boys, of men, and 

priest ; 
Proceed to chancel, there to serve the feast 
Amid a cloud of floating incense sweet 
Which does the kneeling congregation greet: 

i 

"Christ leads the way. 
Oh, come with Him, all ye. 

Repent and pray ; 
Believe His word to thee; 
Receive the cheer His presence brings to all. 
Give heed, ye people, harken to His call. 
Respond with love 
To love of thy great God, 

With faith above. 
And tread where He has trod. 

"Behold His cross. 
The symboled sacrifice, 
Divine love's source 
And promised Paradise, 
Before His mighty host e'er onward goes — 
Confusion, and defeat to all His foes — - 
Aloft is raised 
In glory to His name. 

Forever praised 
To everlasting fame." 

[194] 



The Seeker stood enthralled — unlooked for 

scene ! 
The splendor of solemnity serene 
Swept through his being with strength pro- 
found. 
His very soul was swelled by music's sound, 
Which softly o'er the choir held its sway, 
Then echoed through the church to' parts away 
In one grand period of sound sublime. 
Attained its height by weird harmonic climb 
That seemed to make the massive fabric shake 
And tremble sore, as from a hidden quake. 
Emotions overwhelmed the Seeker's frame 
And cast him prone upon shrine's steps in 

shame 
'Mid dusky shadows, 'neath the ruby light. 
Before the Christ e'er strong in mercy's might ; 
And all his pent up feelings cried out loud. 
As there he lay entranced, with figure bowed. 

"Oh Lord, a new beginning 
Grant to me from this day on. 

The wrongs I am committing 
Grant remission every one. 

"Dear Lord, I pray beseech thee, 
Guilty of my sin am L 

I pray thee not impeach me. 
Send remission from on high. 

[195] 



"Vouchsafe new life and strength'ning, 
Shield me from Temptation vile ; 

And joyful hours e'er length'ning 
Into years perfected pile." 

And still the service at the altar high 
Kept on amid the incense creeping nigh, 
While waves of music, chanting, rose and fell, 
With but a pause once broke by sound of bell 
As still the Seeker whispered oft his plea. 
Biut hark ! the priestly song became a key ; 
Unlocked his heart ; let loose his j oy unbound. 
For, lo, good cheer became the chanting sound: 

Arise/ and peace/ peace to thy soul/ O thou/ 

thou repentant ; 
To thy faith/ strength/ strength for to-day/ 

and forever/ ever. 
Be ye of good cheer/ good cheer/ thy sins are 

all/ forgiven/ forgiven: 
As ye/ have asked/ believing/ believing God/ 

the Father, 
Believing/ in His Son/ and the Holy/ Holy/ 

Spirit, 
So is it/ granted/ granted you/ in answer to/ 

thy pray'r 
In accordance/ with His/ with His/ divine 

promise/ promise. 
Rejoice, rejoice/ and be of/ good cheer/ good 

cheer/ all people: 

[196] 



Because for thee/ for thee/ thy sins/ are 
washed away/ away. 

Unto God/ be all the/ glory/ forever/ and for- 
ever. 

Amen, Amen. 

The music ceased, but still the church was filled 
With that glad sound — the Seeker's anguish 

killed— 
The touch of hope, and blissful sense of rest 
About him fell. Successful in his quest 
He felt assured in some unconscious way, 
As there before the Virgin's shrine he lay 
While priest and people slowly passed without. 
And left him with his thoughts like saints 

about. 
So pure and ardent in their character. 

How long he slept he could not then infer; 
But when at last he raised his head he saw 
Within a niche what held him in glad awe. 
It seemed a marble form of maiden fair. 
But still as leaves in windless summer air. 
She looked on him with eyes of sweet intent, 
With arms stretched out, and body slightly 

bent ; 
Entreating him to rise and take her hand, 
And lead her forth to new and brighter land. 
And as the sun then standing in the west 
Let fall a beam on yellow window crest 
That set Avithin the eaves against the shrine, 
[197] 



And let the ochre light on statue shine 

So that it stood as one of burnished gold ; 

One instant changed from marble white and 

cold, 
So swift, indeed, he scarce could it believe. 
But as he gazed he slowly did conceive 
The statue there was not of sculptured stone, 
But the Vision of his Purpose shone 
In all the glory of the golden light. 
And lo, she forward stepped and touched him 

slight 
Upon his bended head ; then softly spoke 
Sweet gentle words — his saddened spirits woke: 

" 'Mid twilight of the shrine 
I hid, and watched and watched ; 
Through hours I here did pine. 
Buried in the shadows of this pile, 
'Mong these saintly forms without a 

smile — 
Awaiting, waiting thee. 

"To twilight of the shrine 

I saw thee come, thee come, 

O'crcame by music fine. 
And when Repentance sweet did cast thee 

prone 
Beneath the Virgin's feet on steps of stone 

I saw and heard, 3'ca, heard. 

[198] 



"Remission to thee came 

When thou confessed, confessed; 

And glory to His name 
That thou, a pawn, may now arise a king, 
With strength and faith to conquer any- 
thing, 

Yea, e'en the world, the world. 

"Accept thy Purpose' hand, 

'Tis thine ; 'tis won, 'tis won ; 

Lo, comes 'mid golden band. 
Yea, thy Vision is a loving maid. 
From out thy life will never, never fade ; 

E'er cheer and love, e'er love." 

She ceased, the music of her voice still held 
Him rapt. The meaning seemed to grow and 

weld 
Him to his Purpose which he there had found, 
But which he thought was lost to sight and 

sound 
Forever by his reckless word and deed. 
She raised him by the hand with little speed, 
And led him to the wondrous entrance door. 
Upon its marbled sill he stood once more, 
But not alone — his Purpose by his side 
There grasped his hand — yea, would with him 

abide 
Through all his later years. And as they stood 
Quite still, the glory of the futurehood 
[199] 



Was but reflected from the radiant west. 
Beneath their feet there lay his world, at rest 
In smiling brightness 'neath the setting sun, 
Which Perseverance and Repentance won. 



[200] 



2Iratt^lH 



MEMORIES OF JAPAN 

Dost care to hear of doings in Japan? 
Then hark ye all while I my mem'ry scan 
And bring to view the pictures of the land, 
Its temples, cities, and the seashore sand, 
The undulated rice fields, and the fruit; 
The houses of the people whom they suit, 
And they with costume strange and sandaled 

feet 
Who ever with deep bow the stranger greet — 
With children by their side and on their back — 
Yea, children bearing children there's no lack. 
Strange modes and ways of travel too are here, 
And customs which will touch your ears as 

queer. 
Perhaps upon your face a smile will grow 
And then again a sigh when these you know. 

'Twas dawn ! Upon the land of far, far East 
The winter's sun revealed an eyesight's feast 
To sea-tossed wand'rers from the golden West 
That brought to them great joy and needed rest, 
For Yokohama lay beneath the eye. 
The ship with anchor down now rested nigh. 
And still as feather on a windless day. 
Against her rail we looked across the bay 
And felt the icy wind from Fuji's mount 
Upon our faces blow, and scarce could count 
The little craft that swarmed about our ship, 

[203] 



And listened to strange accents from strange 

lip. 
The sky without a cloud was mantle blue 
To city lying low, to bluffs that grew 
A nat'ral fortress on the other side, 
To ocean stretching out beyond so wide ; 
The whole was bathed in early moi'ning's light 
Which made one long for what was out of sight. 

We left the ship upon a little launch 
Alone, — it looked a needle I Swift and staunch, 
It cut the waves and soon we reached the quay 
Where we much closer could the strange things 

see. 
Of customs duties there was not a one; 
But those upon the shore thought it great fun 
To see a stranger in a 'ricksha ride 
For the first time, and 'tis a jar to pride 
To be Instructed in an unknown tongue 
To hear the laughter of the old and young 
At customs strange to them, as theirs to you. 
Along the Bund we rolled — with lovely view 
Of bay and shipping, then to the hotel 
And paid the men ; I am ashamed to tell 
That 'twas too much, — of this I came to know, 
For cost of 'ricksha travel is quite low. 
In this conveyance one must sit alone — 
"Oh, woe !" cry those who would each other own, 
" 'Tis not like buggy riding back at home" — 
In single file the city's streets must roam 
Which makes the conversation somewhat hard 
[204] 



And pleasure is thereby a little marred. 

The men are small, but active and quite strong; 

In slippered feet they trot through street and 

throng. 
Round-hatted like a roof, with numbers plain, — 
At times with naked feet they pull and strain 
And make some twenty miles in one good day 
Through town and village, o'er a country way. 
My darling wife thought it a wicked crime 
For human beings in their youth or prime 
To draw like horses others of their kind. 
Which thought would always rankle in her mind 
And tend to spoil the pleasure of her ride. 
And thus it chanced she called me to her side 
One afternoon while riding in this way. 
"It is a shame !" she cried, "and I must say 
I will not further go, and you explain 
To these poor men !" Ah me ! 'twas all in vain 
For me to say I to them could not talk, — 
'Twould be as easy for a fish to walk 
Upon that country road where we then were, — 
But still "explain, explain," in lazy purr 
For all I said or did, we onward went 
And when we did return they were not spent. 

Of Yokohama little need be said ! 
At first one's mind might easily be led 
To think it was of European make. 
And so it is if one were but to take 
The part upon the bluff and near the bay, 
Where houses are all built our common way. 
[205] 



The streets alone did have a foreign air, 
And gardens to some houses are so fair; 
But all so quiet as a Sabbath day 
Because the traffic there makes little way. 
Beyond the stream which cuts the town in two 
One finds the native quarter old and new ; 
And on a hill which overlooks the place 
The Shinto god of Justice hides his face 
Within his temple watched by sacred priest. 
And there the people come in silent feast, 
But first each rings his gong the god bespeak, 
Then offers prayers perhaps to aid the weak. 

When one has traveled through a native street 
All others are the same where'er they meet — 
Quite narrow and without a paving stone. 
And nearly all possess unsav'ry tone. 
They're lined with bamboo, paper, houses small 
With balcony on some on second wall. 
The lower parts are mostly cheaper shops 
Which open on the street-, — no steps or props — 
With flaunting signs in characters quite strange. 
And so they run as far as eye can range. 

We climbed a hundred steps to tea house 
cute 
And found the hostess not in English mute. 
It took away the charm, at least to me, 
Although the view beyond was fair to see. 

To Kamakura eighteen miles away 
We motored on a lovely winter's day. 
'Tis there a famous temple can be found, 

[206] 



And statued Buddha sitting high from ground. 
For several hundred years he there has sat 
As silent as the Sphinx upon his mat. 
Colossal bronze, he meditates profound 
On mysteries of belief, yet gives no sound ; 
Yea, through the ages of both heat and cold 
He looks upon the ground with eyes of gold 
But hidden, for the eyelids are half closed. 
The statue is in fact sublimely posed ! 
The headpiece of the god with snails is made. 
Thus says the legend that will never fade: 

In India Great Buddha used to live 
And to the people there his thoughts did give, 
When needful these collect away he went 
To desert places on these matters bent ; 
And there he sat beneath the rays of sun 
So long, his patience many snails there won, 
Who crawled upon his head against the heat ; 
And there they are to-day when one may meet 
The statued Buddha sitting on his throne. 
Where'er he be, of bronze or sculptured stone. 

Now hark again as I ye try to tell 
Of luncheon served right fairly and right well 
In native inn by tiny dainty maid 
Who timid seemed, withal was not afraid. 
At Kamakura near the temple's site 
In midst of garden bathed in sunbeams bright, 
We found the inn with open porch for door. 
Before we could but step upon its floor 
We must our shoes remove ; in stocking feet 
[207] 



Within we went and found the place so neat. 

Straw matting white and soft as Persian rug 

Gave forth no sound, as water in a jug. 

We were then led to room up just one flight — 

Of furniture, nay, not a piece in sight. 

Except one low small stand in center placed — 

Four cushions by its side the matting graced. 

A jar with red-hot charcoal brands was there 

To warm the hands, — none other anywhere 

In native house to give a little heat. 

A baby's bureau, too, the eye did greet, 

Which rested on the floor and owned no legs. 

On walls of paper screen one saw no pegs 

Nor closet room where one could hang one's 

things — 
All bare except for screens with painted wings. 
These panels slide in grooves, and greater space 
Could give by giving two rooms fairer grace. 
It took some time for them to cook the meal 
And there we waited, squatting on our heel, — 
For all these people never use a chair, — 
While sunlight came in ripples rare 
And brought the laughter, too, through paper 

pane — 
Of windows made of glass there is a bane. 
Beyond our room a balcony looked out 
Upon the courtyard and the town about. 
And further on one caught a glimpse of sea, 
For Kamakura is a seashore quay. 
At last our luncheon came all served at once, 
[208] 



Each portion on a tray, which for the nonce 

Was very well, and was in native style, 

But e'en would cause the "tacky" ones to smile. 

A little maid with obi on her back 

Knelt down and placed it on our table rack, 

All served in little boxes plain and white. 

And 'twas so pleasing to the eye one quite 

Began to feel 'twas better than it looked — 

A piece of game, some fish both raw and cooked, 

Some seaweed, chestnuts, and some boiled white 

rice, 
With tea and sake hot, which tasted nice, 
And more there was of which I have forgot; 
Yea, though it was all strange I'm glad my lot 
Did bring me there so I could taste and see 
Just how these people came to live and be. 
When we were through all that was left unused 
The maid packed up, at which we were amused, 
And then I learned this always was the case 
For guests to take away with easy grace 
The remnants of the feast for 'nother day. 
With chopsticks did she pack it in this way 
And with these sticks did we our meal, too, eat, 
And I can say 'twas not an easy feat. 

How fair the country looked through which 

we drove ! 

The road ran past wild hills and bamboo grove 

That tall and slender grew and always green. 

So thick they stood that naught within was 

seen; 

[209] 



Yea, all the year their foliage knows no change 
And stands like pines for faith on life's wide 

range. 
But yet they furnish life itself for all! 
Quite tasty when it's cooked, the wood for wall — 
For many other things 'tis used as well. 
Which would take time and space for me to 

tell. 
The little homesteads of the farmer class 
Were picturesque, and many did we pass. 
Some nestled 'neath the hills, with hedge of box 
Before their doors, looked down on rice straw 

cocks 
Which stood in groups on vacant wat'ry fields — 
The sign of wealth which land and water yields ; 
While others stood alone amid the wet, 
But raised above the fields, no moisture get. 
The sloping roofs of all are thatched with straw 
Laid thick and close and strong — no chimney 

for 
Escaping smoke — a little hole is all 
One sees. No window glass is set in wall — 
For light all use white paper oiled and thin. 
The yard and house is kept as neat as pin. 
The views were lovely as we rolled along 
O'er hills, in vales, and through a village throng, 
Along the seashore, too, where fisher folk 
Were mending nets and boats. The echoes 

woke 
As we passed by with shouts and welcome cries 
[210] 



Of men and girls and children thick as flies ; 
And I believe these young the greatest crop 
The country yields — in time will prove its prop. 
These little urchins swarm about the place 
On foot, on back, and each with dirty face, — 
But all so gay and playing with great glee — 
It does one good this elfin sight to see. 
One sees along the roadside Shinto shrines 
And statued gods for trav'lers 'mong the pines, 
The humble resting place of those asleep 
Whose headstones through the trees and grasses 

peep 
Close by the road, while some on distant hill 
Look o'er the landscape with its silver rill. 
These milestones placed by Time on Life's high- 
way 
Do mark the human span and its last day. 
It is the same where'er the traveler goes. 
At home, abroad, among the heathen's woes. 

From Yokohama into Tokyo 
Some eighteen miles by motor we did go, 
And all the way seemed like one village street 
Where children with "0 hayo" us did greet. 
At Tokyo to' native inn we went 
With sad desire to see what it all meant. 
And found what seekers after the unknown 
Have found : 'Tis folly too much Avisdom own. 
A native supper served of which we ate, 
Then sallied to a theater somewhat late. 
Returning very weary, very cold, 
[211] 



We found a mattress for a bed. Why scold? 
It was the custom — all the same, we did; 
Perhaps because the pillows were all hid, 
For all we saw were only blocks of wood. 

A huge kimono for a cover could 
Perhaps a native please — 'twas hard for us, 
As we crawled in with something of a fuss. 
My overcoat rolled up as pillow served 
For wife ; I took my bath robe, then thus nerved 
We whispered prayers, invoked the god of 

sleep, — 
'Twas long before he took us in his keep 
Because the coat and robe kept slipping off. 
My feet besides would at kimono scoff, 
And glad I was I slept in all my things. 
Still morning came, but on such tardy wings, 
And we arose quite unrefreshed and worn, 
But mighty glad were we to see the dawn. 
Of toilet matters not a thought we gave. 
For we had heard that guests were wont to lave 
In wooden tub without a single change 
Of water, which perhaps you may think strange. 
But all this land is queer, think what you will. 
Then down the stairs we crept so soft and still. 
And sought a European breakfast meal, 
Then placed on native ways our final seal. 

In Tokyo we saw the native sport ! 
Some tens of doughty wrestlers strove and 

sought 
To overthrow each other in a ring 
[212] 



Set in an amphitheater that would bring 
A blush of shame to others of their kind. 
Some twenty thousand souls I have in mind 
Were gathered there in honor of the game. 
In tiers they squatted on their mats, the same 
As in their homes (they seldom use a chair) 
And laughed and shouted in a manner rare. 
To Tokyo is due but little praise ! 
'Tis vast and much spread out with streets a 

maze, 
Which looked the same as any other town. 
The palace hid in grounds a hill did crown. 
High-walled with moat which circled it around. 
Appeared to be an island in a sound. 
Few European buildings of some style 
Were scattered there about within a mile, 
And made a queer contrast to native shacks, 
Each one of which a beauty sadly lacks. 
It rained when we did leave Hibya Inn 
Our journey to Nikko that day begin. 
We started out with 'ricksha covers raised, 
Then put them down, at which all were amazed ; 
And thus we rode to station for the train 
Through city streets in all the pouring rain. 
'Twas interesting thus to see the Japs 
Go plodding on with straw raincoats and caps, 
With huge umbrellas out of paper made — 
On wooden sandals through the wet would wade. 
In fact, some were who went with naked feet 

[213] 



strapped to their clogs which raised them from 

the street. 
One sees but horses few and these are small ; 
Some bullocks drew their loads with lazy crawl 
But gaudy decked and led by ring through nose, 
Their drivers strode beside in sign-marked 

clothes ; 
But hauling's mostly done by girls and men, 
Some have their babes on back of this I ken. 
We suffered not from wet when we arrived 
And much amusement, pleasure had derived. 
We found the train prepared and in we went! 
Our car was small, of European bent, 
Well warmed and cosy after all the wet. 
As we were there alone we could not fret. 
Oh, hark to clatter on the platform floor! 
A crowd of sandaled Japs were seeking door. 
Their wooden feet made louder noise than 

tongue. 
With cloaks and bundles, old were bearing 

young; 
They pattered, clattered, to their several seats. 
And now we're off ! Too bad the rain still beats 
Against the pane and veils the country scene 
From hungry eyes that wished away this screen. 
Thus for five hours we speeded and we stopped, 
Until at Nikko's feet in fog we dropped. 
Now our hotel was up on mountain side 
And far away. It took three men who pried 
And pulled each 'ricksha up the hill that night. 
[214] 



How nice it was through mist to see the light 
And greet the bowing Japs before the door, 
Who welcome gave as we stepped on its floor. 
How lovely in the Summer it must be, 
For fair it was in snow, as we could see. 
And this we came to know with morning's light, 
Because the sun had put the fog to flight 
And stood a golden ball within the sky, — 
Revealed a view of mountains rising high 
On every hand; some thick with fir trees green. 
Some wild and steep as ever I have seen. 
The site where stood the inn was mountain bowl, 
Yea, was garden fair to please one's soul. 
There, too, were native houses but a few, 
The same as all — of paper and bamboo. 

On Nikko's hill there dwells the Shinto god 
And once there, too, the Shogun's feet had trod 
Whose spirit lives within the temple shrine 
Which grew in grandeur there among the pine. 
A little village in itself alone 
Of shrines to minor gods the god did own, 
Of inlaid gold, and hand-carved precious stone. 
There too is sculptured stone and brazen bell 
Which tolls the passing hours' last dying knell. 
Three monkeys carved in wood upon a wall 
In silence teach a lesson to us all. 
There's one who, sitting with his paw on eye, 
Yea, dumb, yet : "See no evil" is his cry ! 
And one old fellow has his paw on ear. 
And shows we should of evil never hear. 
.[ai5] 



And then the last, with paw on mouth and 

cheek, 
Would intimate of evil never speak. 
Thus through the ages have they just so taught 
And to the throngs each voice a single thought. 
A platform with pagoda roof is there 
On which the sacred dance is held with care 
In days of festival by temple priest, 
And people crowd the place to see the feast. 

Now come to entrance of the temple grand ! 
With shoes removed, I take you by the hand 
And lead you to the bronze clothed steps within 
Where sit the guardian gods whom we must win 
Before we to the inner shrine can pass. 
The whole vast place is one great golden mass 
Relieved by tints of powdered precious stone, 
For in those days they knew no painting's tone, 
So crushed the jade to get the color green 
And over all they placed a lacquered screen. 

We don a flowing silken priestly robe 
Before the sacred mystic secret probe. 
And listen to six priests the service read. 
While uncouth music makes one's senses bleed. 
Then from a vestry room comes sacred food 
That's placed before the god to change his 

mood — 
'Twas sacred sake and a rice made cake — 
And some to us is given to partake. 
When this is done the doors are open wide 
And we are free to enter there inside. 
[216] 



We find a golden shrine built in a shrine 

Of gold inlay, — 'tis very, very fine ; 

And tapestry does cover all the walls 

Of silk and golden thread — my mem'ry palls 

Just noAV — but 'tis of gods and zod'ac signs, 

And secret treasure chests which no man minds. 

Within the holy shrine there rests the god. 

An image placed where feet of man ne'er trod. 

Alone amid the blackness of a night 

Which for all time can never see a light, 

And guarded by strange locks which none dare 

force 
Because the spirit god would be so cross 
As to the temple overthrow and kill 
The man who dared to disregard his will. 
Another service, then the shrine is closed. 
I'm sure you'll find you have not been imposed, 
For though it's heathen, all is most sincere — 
Perhaps the Christian could not more appear ! 

Among the firs above the temple site 
There iyeyasu, Shogun by his right. 
Does sleep his last beneath the bronze and 

stone — 
His spirit dwells below in shrine alone. 
His tomb is reached by steps and winding path 
Among the mighty firs and sunlight's bath, 
While far below the mountain side one hears 
The murmur of a brook. 'Tis nature's tears 
Still shed for glory of the man now past 
Which through the ages yet to come will last. 
[217] 



The building of this temple took long years 
And men were made to work sans pay through 

fears, 
While some were taxed and maids gave up their 

gold. 
But one, a noble in the days of old. 
Could not his pay. Instead, he gave some trees 
Of fir which line the road as thick as bees 
From Tokyo to entrance of this shrine, 
And still they stand, an avenue of pine — 
An everlasting mem'ry to his name. 
And to the temple adds much greater fame. 

Then to Kyoto journeyed we by train 
And sure enough, the sky shed tears of rain, 
But ceased when Shidziioka we did reach, 
For glory of the sun will storms impeach. 
'Twas there we broke the journey for a night, 
And just within the vision of one's sight 
The snowcapped Fujiyama raised its head 
Above a mountain range that is its bed. 
Below its feet the rice-grown level plain 
Reached out and touched Pacific's mighty main. 
'Twas dotted here and there with hamlets small. 
And cocks of rice straw made a yellow wall. 
While sprouting grain and bamboo groves of 

green 
Did lend a touch of color to the scene. 
While overhead the clouds were nmning fast. 
As chased by sunbeams and the springlike blast. 

[218] 



They showed their rage by throwing shadows 

here 
And there, but soon were made to disappear. 

A wise old fortune teller we did meet 
In shade of Shidzudka Temple's feet 
Who told a story from my wife's fair hand 
And read from mystic book and sticks in band. 
The meaning was retold in English tongue, 
'Twill do, I think, for all, both old and young. 
He said one should the driver always trust ; 
Give heed and let this not in mem'ry rust ! 

Kyoto, called the Paris of Japan, 
Was once the royal seat for all this clan. 
The Shoguns did in regal splendor live, 
And from a golden palace laws did give, 
And when from this high office they retired 
It was the gold pavilion they desired 
Amid a garden large and wondrous fair, 
And to the Buddha worship did repair. 
The mountain of the Silken Scarf, so called 
Because a Shogun from the heat did scald 
And sought relief — delusion of the eye — 
By having mountain summit lying nigh 
All spread with yards of silk of snowy white 
To look like cooling snow by day and night, 
Loomed up beyond a wall of pine trees green ; 
And many ponds and walks there too are seen. 
Yea, here the coronation will take place 
In royal hall of plain and simple grace. 
'Tis also the high seat of Buddha sect. — 

[219] 



A temple grand and used by his elect, 
And not unlike a Roman Church adorned, 
For simple Shinto style is here quite scorned. 
Yea, seven times one hundred temples here 
Are found. Pagoda of a thousand year 
Looks o'er the town with tier on tier of roof 
On hillside never pressed by horse's hoof. 
'Tis called the Tea Pot Hill, and on its crest 
A Shinto temple large there has its rest. 
And all about there lies a lovely park 
Which on Kyoto's site has made its mark. 

Withal, the houses and the streets are just 
Like others in Japan, and you must trust 
My word, for I can find no picture new 
To spread before your eyes in verbose view. 
To Nara in a motor did we fare 
One cloudless springlike day of balmy air, 
And passed through many lovely rural scenes — 
To paint them all is far beyond my means. 

Within a forest of bamboo there sleeps 
Japan's late emperor! Still the nation weeps 
Before his simple mountain tomb, which looks 
O'er trees on country, lakes, and singing 

brooks — 
A fitting bed for him who saved his land 
From Shogun's rule and avaricious hand, 
And made his people see a dawning light — 
Yea, led them step by step through hard-fought 
fight. 

Through Ugi famous for its high-grade tea. 
[220] 



These little trees spread out a bushy sea 
Are filled in May days with the country lass 
Engaged in picking new-born leaves. They 

pass 
The merry song which tells of this glad time, 
And not to join with them would be a crime. 

O'er road so narrow that just one can go, 
Steep sided, high above the fields and row 
Of orange trees — withal a lovely view 
Of landscape, every inch of which is new 
With sprouting grain and hand-worked black- 
ened soil, 
Besides the ricks of straw raised coil on coil. 
There one sees the hamlets low and small 
That cluster close beneath the mountain wall. 
And many people, too, one sees abroad 
In field, on road, who laugh with one accord 
In simple joy because they are alive. 
E'en though they live like bees in clustered hive. 

In Nara dwells a Buddha of great size 
In ancient temple, still Japan's great prize. 
And in a park whose beauty is most rare, — 
Where live small deer in many hundred pair. 
And all so tame they crowd and feed from hand. 
Some decked with horns and color of the sand — 

A charming place where we our luncheon 
had — 
Upon a hill. Alas ! it seemed quite sad 
To see that inn so empty and alone. 
But then the view for this did quite atone. 
[221] 



Kyoto on to Kobe ! There we met 
The steamship. Oh, how nice it seemed to get 
On board ! And as we sailed the Inland Sea 
I thought I ne'er had seen a sight so free 
Of anything to mar the wondrous scene 
Made bright by cloudless day and sea so green, 
E'en though the wind blew strong and very cold 
From snowcapped mountains, rugged, rough 

and bold, 
Which loomed beyond and seemed to kiss the 

sky, 

While thousand islets, large and small, rose 

high 
From whitecapped waves, — some barren, clad 

with rocks 
With single pine on crest, — they looked like 

cocks 
Of hay thrown up by giants of the sea. 
Thus in and out through Nature's hayfield we 
Did wend our way 'mid ever changing scene. 
Where shadows made the trees a darker green 
And blackened slopes of hills and mountain 

peak ; 
And much there was of which I cannot speak ; 
Throughout the day until the close of night 
Shut out all things save for a village light, 
And showed the beacons glowing bright and 

clear 
Ahead, astern, with one or two quite near. 
So on 'til Nagasaki came with dawn, 
[222] 



And swarms of human ants made use of mom 
To coal the ship with wicker baskets small ; 
And on some staging made a human wall 
Of men and women, some with babes on back, 
So even there of children was no lack. 

Of Japanese there's little I can say: 
In courtesy excel in funny way — 
Their homes for neatness have no greater match, 
But of their ways of living I will scratch ! 
Of Geisha girls I would a word or two : 
A stranger finds he has to change his view 
Regarding them. No dances do they dance, 
Nor does the gaudy costume have a chance ; 
But in dark clothes they play their music sad. 
Without a tune, which jars one's senses bad. 
Some little girls will do a mimic dance, 
But 'tis of quiet step without a prance ; 
And these wear costumes gay as noonday sun, 
But when of age, fifteen, they must these shun. 
The geishas are supposed to lend a grace 
Most highly cultivated in the place, — 
Are often sought as wives by men of class, — 
They teach and guard the little dancing lass. 

Not all I've seen or heard my liking won, 
As now farewell to Land of Rising Sun ! 
I never can advise a friend to rap 
On Japan's door while in its winter's nap. 



[223] 



GLIMPSES OF THE EAST 

How dull the sky and bleak the winter's wind 
That sends the shivers still through soul and 

mind, 
Was that which greeted me one Sunday morn 
When the good ship "Siberia" at dawn 
Cast anchor at the river's mouth below 
The city of Shanghai. In teeth of blow 
We went upstream on tender of the line 
Between low-lying banks denude of pine 
Or other trees, with here and there a farm 
With houses made of straw asleep in calm 
Repose. Their tilted roofs were like a tent ; 
Because in olden days their ways were bent 
Toward this mode of living, so they still 
Turn up the roofs to suit the ancient will. 
The river, too, was full of junks! Crude boats 
Are these with lantern sails and painted coats 
Of brilliant red, high-sterned and dipping bow, 
With eyes of wood placed on each side of prow 
And thus avoid the dangers of the sea. 
But look like uncouth monsters as can be. 

Through Shanghai's native city we did fare — 
And well it was we had a guide to care 
For us among the maze of narrow streets 
Unsavory, dark — their like one seldom meets. 
An ancient Mandarin's house, all walled about, 
Deserted, heeded not the noise and shout 
Which echoed faintly in the empty halls. 
[224] 



A dragon carved in stone there capped the walls 
Which twisted 'round about the grottoed place, 
All built in stone of queer fantastic grace. 
There also were some trees and silent pools. 
Reception rooms within had hand-carved stools ; 
And ancient frescoes painted on the walls 
Told silent tales of men and waterfalls. 
There too sat Joss alone in empty house 
Of wood and gold, and silent as a mouse. 
Again within this walled-like palace place 
We saw some tea rooms, and a painted face 
Of him who ruled the land in days of yore. 
At last we came to heavy massive door 
Which gave upon a noisy crowded square. 
This owned a temple filled with many pair 
Of worshippers, who burned the sandal wood 
And paper leaves before the gods, who should 
Give heed to those who prayed, if they were 

real. 
Alas for them ! they could not talk or feel — 
Mere images each placed upon a throne, 
Could but deceive who took them for their own. 
Thence through the foreign quarters we did ride. 
And nice we found it with its streets quite wide. 
Fine mansions standing in their own fair 

grounds. 
Were walled about and free from clanging 

sounds. 
Where motor car and carriage came and passed, 

[225] 



Where maidens dressed in silks and furs did 

cast 
Bright glances as they came and onward went ; 
Where handsome shops an air of grandeur lent, 
Where clubs and business houses faced the 

Bund 
That teemed with life and ships. 'Tis there a 

fund 
Of interest can be found in many things. 
The Chinese girl in coat and trousers brings 
A smile perhaps — withal it suits them well. 
Then pedlars with all sorts of wares to sell, 
And sailors, soldiers walking up and down ; 
Yea, men from India in turbaned crown 
Give life and color to the changing scene, 
While just beyond the road a park of green 
Is touched by river flowing by its door 
And owns a velvet grass and flowered floor. 
Now I do truly think the day will come 
When Shanghai will awake the fairest one 
That you can find in all this eastern land. 
Or that is by the ocean breezes fanned. 

t 
Then, as the day began to fade away. 
We went again among the waves at play 
Beneath a sky which hid the stars from sight, 
Toward the south where lies Manila bright 
And fair, a garden 'neath a tropic sun. 
Quick was the change from arctic cold to one 

[226] 



Of warmth. Thick clothes gave place to sum- 
mer wear, 
While skies of misty veils and clouds were bare, 
And ocean changed from green to deepest blue. 
'Twas Wednesday when the Islands came in 
view. 
Along the northern coast of Luzon we 
Did sail quite close, and plainly could I see 
The beaches lying at the mountains* feet. 
And edged with foam where waves and sand did 

meet. 
Thick was the cloak of trees the mountains 

wore, — 
A jungle dense and filled with tropic lore. 
Then came the forts, well made in later days. 
And like Gibraltar, strong in many ways, 
Which guard the safety of Manila town 
From all intruders who would like it down. 
Into the bay where Dewey made his name 
And robbed the Spanish of their ancient fame. 
We came about the middle of the night. 
And saw a city lit with yellow light, 
Which glowed like many hundred fireflies 
All spread about before our very eyes. 
And showed in outline carnival's steel tow'r, 
The sign of festival's right happy hour. 
Then speedy launches- came from out the dark 
Which skimmed, like arrows flying to their 

mark. 
Up to our side, and greeting gave the ship 
[227] 



In language from an English speaking lip. 

But 'twas at morn I really came to see 
Those things which night had kept 'neath lock 

and key ; 
And lo! I was surprised to find the land 
As flat, in fact as any seashore sand, 
And from the dock looked barren, bleak and 

bare. 
The lovely hills stood 'far in misty air — 
Along the water ran a long stone wall; 
Beyond, a huge hotel with spacious hall 
Stood all alone before the soldiers' field ; 
There too the Army Club was just revealed. 
Our battleships which lay all dressed in white, 
In peaceful silence spoke of nation's might. 
And many merchant ships were here and there ; 
And thatched roofed native boats in many pair 
Lay close 'long side, each waiting for its load. 
And manned by Filipinos, dressed in mode 
That seemed to suit them well, — but 'twas not 

much 
They wore. The girls, I found, did give a 

touch 
Of brightness to the town, — dark-skinned, black 

hair 
More often worn unbound, long, thick, and fair; 
Wide sleeves of gauzy stuff, in colors bright. 
Made stiff with starch, stood out from shoul- 
ders quite 
Resplendent ; and a skirt that's also gay 
[228] 



Blends well with eyes of black. A swinging 

way 
Those women have when walking down the 

street, 
And happy faces beam when friends they meet. 
A longish stretch from dock to walled-in 

town } 
O'er this we drove, and entered through the 

brown 
Old gate which stood beyond a dried up moat. 
The buildings were not large, and each had 

coat 
Of varied tints which made the ancient place, 
Like sun's bright rays on young and pretty 

face, 
Look bright, and lighted up the narrow street. 
Now all the things were Spanish that did greet 
Our eyes — the churches in their somber hue. 
The shops and houses and the gardens few. 
On other side there lay the modem town. 
'Twas rcach'd by bridges which a river crown. 
And this was filled with ships and native craft, 
Some anchored, some with flags both fore and 

aft. 
Here, too, the streets were narrow and quite 

bent, 
Through which the trolley cars and autos went 
With noisy clang of bell and toot of horn — 
Queer vehicles, two-wheeled, with steeds for- 
lorn, 

[229] 



Which hold but two, with driver on one's lap 

Almost, but on a tiny seat; a cap 

He wore, and shirt that one could see quite 

through : 
'Twas made of housi cloth, and gave a view 
Of brownish skin — then carts by bullocks 

drawn — • 
Most patient do they seem, and broad of horn. 
A type of water bullocks with long necks, 
Short legs, and only of those masc'line sex, 
I've seen at work, both in the water and 
In fields, on roads, or fixing rice-made land. 
This part of town is filled with shops quite 

fine 
Where one may get all kinds of wares. Some 

shine 
With Oriental bric-a-brac and lace ; 
Embroid'ry, too, does many windows grace; 
Manila hats of straw as soft as silk. 
Refreshments, too, are found, of wine or milk. 
And ever are these streets with people filled. 
On pleasure, business bent — just as they willed: 
And soldiers, sailors walking up and down, 
And charming foreign maids all grace the town. 
Then, too, are pretty little hidden squares 
Quite filled with palms and still as Sunday airs — 
Perhaps before a church, where white robed 

priest 
May stroll about and taste the peaceful feast, 
And where a graceful form and dark brown eyes 
[230] 



From balcony looks out with laugh, or sighs. 

Now Fort McKinley lay beyond the town 
And graced some rising land with austere frown. 
One road to it ran 'long a river bank — 
For loveliness could easily take rank 
With any I have seen on country side. 
Between the rich green foliage did it glide, 
And passed the native houses built on poles. 
We caught a glimpse within through sundry 

holes, 
And small they were, with hammocks for a bed. 
The space beneath was used as sort of shed. 
These stilted huts one meets with everywhere; 
Yea, some are rough, and some are built with 

care. 
With windows shaded by a bamboo blind, 
While many have a garden of some kind ; 
And all are clustered in a village small. 
Surrounded by bamboo, banana wall, 
Which makes a pretty contrast to the straw 
Built huts. And ever there's a playful war 
Between the children, thick as summer flies. 
Who swarm about the place with merry cries. 
While brown-skinned matrons carry some on hip, 
And man and maid pass by with smile on lip, 
Engaged, perhaps in that eternal game. 
World wide, which couples play for love and 

name. 
'Tis said the mountains and the jungle are 

[231] 



Most fair! I cannot speak of them. Thus 

far 
Is all I know, and you must read or hear 
From others that which does not here appear. 

Expansive waste amid a solitude 
Deep, vast and tense, so utterly denude 
Of scenes and views that tend to please the 



eye 



Yea, water reaching far and kissing sky ; 
A living, breathing ocean, never still, 
And seldom silent, rolling, breaking hill 
Of briny mass, gives roaring, splashing sound, 
Wind driven, spreading far and wide around! 
Some strange winged fishes make a sign of life, 
When darting from the sea like silver knife 
They cut the air and soar for little space. 
Until with splash are lost, and leave no trace. 

A tiny smudge appears in southern sky, 
Grows denser ; then a speck on sea draws nigh, — 
Becomes a steamer, sailing, cleaving wave 
And tossing up her head in manner brave — 
A tiny world within herself alone 
And, for a time, that solitude does own. 
We on proceed until some isles appear 
From out the sea and seem to draw up near 
And I wake up, and find that Hong Kong lies 
A bit beyond, but hid in misty skies. 



[232] 



Ye gods ! Oh, where can I, mere mortal man, 

Find paint and colored words whereby I can 

Best draw the pictures of this charming place. 

And show its hills and plants in all their grace? 

Now Hong Kong lies beneath the mountain's 

feet, 
Extending up its side in manner sweet — 
Quite foreign, built in European style, 
Withal owns Oriental air the while, 
Which made me think 'twas like Gibraltar's 

Rock. 
Fair shops there are, extending block on block 
And filled with things designed to tempt one's 

soul, — 
Rich silks and laces, gems, and china bowl. 
A stroll along the water front I think 
You'll find unique, and may perhaps be drink 
To one who thirsty is for all that's strange. 
It teems with life and scenes which ever change. 
From little sampans clustering close and thick. 
Queer boats are these with tiny cabin, stick 
For mast which has a lantern sail ; on these 
Whole families make their homes — a crowded 

squeeze 
It is ; but there they have no rent to pay 
As on the land, because they live on bay — 
To clumsy junks and steamers, large and 

small — 
To men and women hauling loads — where all 
Are busy with some sort of work, and where 
[233] 



Some keep a cooking stand — where here and 

there 
Some cheaper grade of goods are put on sale — ■ 
Where some are eating nuts and little snail ; 
Where little children play and run about 
And jump, as drivers on them come with shout. 
Where trolley cars and autos add their din 
To noises made by others thick and thin ; 
Where sign decked buildings stand in gaping 

row, 
Look out on bay, on all who come and go. 
And then beyond one finds the Chinese town 
In all its picturesqueness and its frown. 
Here, too, the streets are filled with life and 

sound. 
And also shops can everywhere be found. 
The Chinese girls are pretty and so neat ! 
They dress in coat and trousers ; but so sweet 
And dignified their mien, it suits them well ; 
And in their hair are pins of gold and shell. 
While clothes of bright hued silk give pretty 

tone. 
And blend with all the Orientals own. 
The hillside is the fairest of it all ! 
Its roads are steep and wind through tropic wall 
Of vegetation, shady, thick and green. 
Through which one gets a glimpse of fairy 

scene 
Of land and water lying far below, 

[234] 



Where ships look like child's toys in sun's bright 

glow, 
And islands are but dots on water's face. 
Here too are villas which the hillside grace, 
All dressed in colors, bright with gardened 

grounds. 
While streams flow swiftly down with gentle 

sounds. 
The topmost point is called by them the 

Peak, 
And I know not of this just how to speak. 
'Tis the aristocratic place to live. 
But all is rock, and bare of trees, which give 
A sort of blankness to this sky kissed place — - 
Withal does open up a view of space 
Unrivaled in its wide and lovely range. 
And where one's eyes do find a constant change 
Of scene, of rugged rocks of sea and sky. 
Yea, villas rest upon this place so high. 
And cable tram is used to bring folk there. 
Straight up the side it goes without a care, 
And looks like fly on Pisa's tower old. 
To ride on this one needs a courage bold. 

In Hong Kong does one find the sedan chair. 
On poles 'tis bom on shoulders of a pair 
Of men who walk with swing all o'er the place — 
Through city, on the hillside, at good pace. 
Of horses, which are few and far between, 
Not one in all that spot have I e'er seen. 
An auto ride I took one lovely day 
[235] 



To Aberdeen, along a mountain way 
So full of interest and of beauty rare 
That words me fail, as I these views compare 
With those I've seen in many other lands, — 
Of hills and vales, and sea-washed yellow 

sands — 
A Chinese fishing village on a bay 
That's filled with junks and sampans, which all 

lay 
As thick and close as sardines in a box. 
Surrounded by a mountain range which locks 
It up from storms, which often rage at sea 
Beyond the harbor's entrance like a key. 
This village teems with life and much that's 

queer 
Which makes it worth the while to see it near. 
In fact, this ride o'er perfect roads though 

short, 
Is fine a one that lives in any port. 

"Oh, where, oh, where can all my baggage 
be?" 
'Twas this I cried when it I could not see 
Upon the dock about the time to take 
The tender to the ship. I could not make 
It out. We left the inn for final peep 
Of this quaint city with its hills asleep. 
And left the things to follow in a while ; 
But when we reach'd the dock I could not smile, 
Because of all we owned there was not one. 
[236] 



No time there was for any extra fun ; 
And after searching all the docks around, 
Back to the inn I ran, and there I found 
The things had left some little time before ; 
So back again, with feelings somewhat sore 
And perspiration spread all o'er my face, 
To find them just arriving at snail's pace. 
And born on coolies' shoulders from a pole. 
I had expected carts, but bless my soulf 
I had forgotten these were seldom used. 
And hence my intellect was much confused. 
Then all went well until the ship was reached. 
*'0h, where's the camera, dearest?" I beseeched. 
"Dear me ! I left it on the dock in town," 
She cried; and this did seem it all to crown. 
I asked if time there was to go again 
To town ; and found a launch had only been 
And left the ship. Alas, what could I do.? 
That Saturday was surely my hoodoo ! 
When all at once I heard a welcome sound; 
A voice called "Adams' camera has been found." 
And sure enough a Cook's man, passing by. 
Had seen it lying there, so, with a sigh 
For carelessness of tourists big and small, 
He brought it to the ship, — and that was all ! 

The S. S. "Himalaya" of that line. 
Well known by "P. & O," was old but fine, 
And bore us o'er the southern China Sea 
To Singapore as fast as well could be. 
The passengers were few, and nothing gay 
[237] 



To break the sameness of the ocean way 
Occurred ; and those five days were each the 

same, 
With now and then some chess or other game. 

I found quaint Singapore a lovely place, 
Where groves of palms of cocoanuts did grace 
The town and slopes of hills that lay around. 
Where pineapples in quantities abound, 
And tropic plants all dressed in verdure rich, 
And Malay natives who will ever pitch 
Their huts on sticks some feet above the ground ; 
And many Chinese mansions here are found. 
The town itself is picturesque and large. 
And has a leafy Bund, where ship and barge 
At anchor ride before its tree-bound wall, 
While back of this are fields of green, where all 
Who are inclined can many games there play, 
And varied tinted houses line the way. 

Now Singapore is but five hours' sail 
To the Equator and its sun-baked pale; 
And yet this town does suffer not from heat. 
Because the ocean breezes do it greet 
Most pleasantly by day, and through the night. 
Which tends to temper sun's aggressive might. 
Of course we called at many shops that day. 
And these were small and all arranged one way. 
The greatest stock of goods were cloths for 
loin — 

[238] 



For this is all the natives wear — some coin, 

Some silver ornaments and jeweled rings, 

Besides some other interesting things. 

In one such shop did I receive a gift. 

From whom ? Ah well \ perhaps you had best 

lift 
Yourself the mystic curtain of my thought 
And guess of what it is, and by whom bought; 
And if you fail I will it gladly show 
On my return in springtime's gentle flow. 
One hint I'll give: 'tis green and yellow gold 
Which tells a story from the days of old. 
How truly small is this old world of ours ! 
One never knows in all the passing hours 
Whom one may meet, or how, or in what way. 
'Twas shown again in Singapore that day 
When one familiar voice my name did call, 
And turning round I saw a face — of all 
I know the last I did expect to see 
In that far eastern land, which brought to me 
Afresh the mem'ries of a counting room 
Where he and I sat side by side for some 
Few years, and toiled with paper, pen, and ink. 
It was a joy to me, and so I think 
It was to him to meet again out here. 
And seemed to bring old times once more quite 

near. 
He just arrived was bound from east to west, 
While I from west did stop for little rest, 

[239] 



And yet we met within the selfsame days 
To part and journey on our several ways. 

Then toward the north we sailed at set of sun 
For four and twenty hours e'er we won 
Penang which lives amid Malacca Strait, 
But which we reached at hour somewhat late. 
'Twas very much like Singapore I thought — 
A thriving town where business is much 

wrought, 
With lovely homes amid some lovely grounds 
All filled with tropic growth and birdlike sounds. 
A Hindoo temple 'mid a grove of palms 
Where natives oft received some food as alms, 
Was the most interesting place I saw. 
Then gardens on a hill without a flaw 
Did lend a charm to our much shortened day, 
Because we sailed at two upon our way. 

Ceylon is now in sight upon our hand ! 
'Tis said to be a lovely piece of land, 
So for a time I'll take a little rest 
And for you, too, perhaps it will be best. 



[240] 



CEYLON: THE GARDEN OF EDEN 

Oh come, oh come, with me, my dear; 
Together let us stroll and dream 
Through fairyland which knows no tear 
To screen the beauty of life's stream. 

Oh come, oh come, thou weary one; 
Refresh thy eyes with pictures rare 
In dreams beneath a tropic sun, 
Through silvered veil of evening air. 

Oh come, oh come, and with me quaff 
The nectar of a paradise; 
Where Nature sings and sunbeams laugh 
While Fate is playing games of dice. 

An ancient saying lately touclied my ear : 
It was that God's own Garden Eden here 
Did flourish on this Island of Ceylon ; 
And I can well believe that ne'er had sun 
On fairer spot in all this great fair world 
E'er shone ; — like glory of a flag unfurled 
On castled keep that looks o'er fairyland 
Reveals to all its beauty on each hand. 

'Tis true the city of Colombo does 
Not prove this in itself, because it was, 
And is, a largely European place 
Where one may often meet a well-known face. 
But still it has an Oriental air 
And is a key to land that is most fair. 
[9A1] 



Within the breakwater were many ships, 
All snug, which needed not a word from lips 
To prove that this was so, for all were still 
As wheels or knives in old abandoned mill. 
We let our anchor fall at early dawn, 
And to their number then one more was born ! 
Then later in a skiff by natives manned 
Were rowed to what to us was unknown land. 
A friendly welcome we received on shore 
And passed ourselves and baggage with no more 
Than greetings to the custom guard on wharf 
Who led us to the town with merry laugh. 

The people and the land around, that makes 
A town ; and with these facts Colombo takes 
Her place among the pictures of the earth ; 
And he who roams about will find it worth 
His while, as we found out in one short ride 
Through palm-grown streets, 'mid folk, and 

o'er a wide 
And grassy-edged highway along the sea 
Where all the town turns out at eve ; and we 
Could get a glimpse before the set of sun 
Of how the people sought a little fun. 
As seemed, by riding, walking, playing games 
Beyond, of which, I cannot call their names. 
Before our eyes lay India's ocean blue, — 
A vast and rolling, splashing, marine view ; 
But at that hour it seemed to be on fire, — 
It caught the sky as well with fierce desire. 
The dying day's last fight to hold its own 
[242] 



Was one of glory. Tints of flowers blown 
Dispersed themselves along the western line, 
And spread abroad in loveliness divine. 
No longer did the sun his strength display, 
But passed to other lands, and his last ray 
E'en flashed a ruddy gold, and then the end 
Came slowly, slowly onward. Night descend 
In all thy silvered starlit beauty fair 
And with thy mantle close the Daytime's care! 

Lo, this she did and added yet a charm 
To this far eastern land of fruit and palm. 
Then in her train she brought the zephyrs cool, 
And showed herself within the sea's vast pool — 
A path of silver leading to the moon ; 
While to the land she brought a gracious boon 
Which hid the heat and gave to all their rest ; 
Then made the shadows grow from east to west. 
The lighthouse built within the town then cast 
Its yellow shaft in circle wide and vast; 
While tiny insects glowed amid the flowers 
In myriads throughout the evening hours. 
Thus grew the glory of a tropic night 
Beneath the Southern Cross of star-made light. 
Here one could scarce discern a man from 

maid ! 
Men's hair grew long and on their heads was 

laid, 
There held in place by combs of tortoise shell, 
'Twas shaped in more than crescent form and 

well 

[24^3] 



It set upon their crowns with open space 
Toward the brow. The features of the face 
Were quite effeminate, and when they wore 
A garb (but seldom did they wear but more 
Than Nature had endowed them with at birth, 
Just as she gave the flowers of the earth) 
'Twas loose and flowing like the women wear 
Which at a distance lent a female air. 
The servants were all men with naked feet ! 
And in the room where we all sat at meat 
One heard no sound of footfall on the floor 
Wlien walking 'round the place, or through the 

door. 
Another stranger custom have these men ! 
When they would make a sign of what they ken 
To signify "Oh, yes" by move of head, 
It is a funny shake, and not a shred 
Of nod appears, which quite confuses one 
Who's strange to customs 'neath this tropic sun. 

Brightly glows the sun on high, 
Brightly gleams a hill-swept sky; 
Softly blows the tropic's charms, 
Softly stirring feathered palms, 
On the road to Kandy ! 
Rolling, bowling thi'ough the groves and fields ; 
Strolling, trowling o'er a tropic road: 
Onward, onward fresher beauty yields — 
Fairer, fairer grows a wondrous load, — 
On the road to Kandy ! 

[2^4] 



Dusky children of this land, 
Dusky cattle plod through sand; 
Smiling faces gaze at you, 
Smiling sunbeams peeping through, — 
On the road to Kandy ! 
Whirling, twirling spin the wheels all day; 
Hurling, thirling through a village small: 
Forward, forward 'mid the colors gay — 
Harken, barken to the tropic's call, — 
On the road to Kandy ! 

Grandly 'pear great mountains wild, 
Grandly vales below them smiled; 
Waving treetops reach, retreat, 
Waving rice fields at their feet, — 
On the road to Kandy ! 

Winding, blinding, winds the mountain path; 

Grinding, binding, broader tropic view; 

Upward, upward, o'er a rocky swath. 

Changing, changing, grander, ever new, 
On the road to Kandy ! 

In some such form as this my thoughts did 
ring 
Throughout this motor ride, where everything 
Was like a picture from a fairy book ; 
And now I turn the pages back to look 
Upon those scenes through which we now have 

passed 
That in my thoughts I know will ever last. 
Now Kandy is a little mountain town, 
The road to which is good, runs up and down. 
[245] 



At first the country was quite flat and plain, 
But clothed with groves of palm, despite no rain, 
They swept the sky with feathered leaves of 

green. 
And in their tops the cocoanuts were seen 
In groups like green or brownish cannon ball: 
With slender stems denude of branch they sprawl 
Upward, or leaning t'ward the left or right; 
And in their midst the natives live in light 
Straw huts well sheltered from the sun's great 

heat. 
At times they open out for fields of wheat 
Or rice, and meadows where the cattle browse. 
They make a welcome fringe where all can 

drowse 
Within their shade throughout the hot midday. 
And yet again one sees a fair display 
Of tea and rubber trees upon a hill ; 
And strange it is how 'mid the rocks they will 
Both grow and thrive where all the ground 

seems dry — 
Of nourishment was none I could descry. 
They pick the new-blown tea leaves through the 

year! 
Then these are taken to a mill quite near, 
There spread on racks to dry, then broken fine 
And through a set of screens, all ranged in line, 
Are sifted to the several grades of tea. 
'Tis said the finest bits arc the best key 
To perfect cup of this great beverage I 

[246] 



The rubber crop quite fills another page, 

Although the two are made in one same mill. 

At early, early morn they seek to fill 

The cups with sap because it runs the best 

When the red sun is rising from his nest. 

The rubber trees are scanned in spiral wave 

For several feet above the ground, — a shave 

It is upon the surface of the bark, — 

And in this groove there shows a snow-white 

mark 
Which trickles slowly down into a pail 
For several hours slow as any snail. 
The sap is taken to a mill away. 
And through the molds is made in one brief day 
To little round shaped cakes all very thin ; 
But sure enough a market they will win. 
The trees are left to heal their wounds awhile 
When winter comes with its sweet tropic smile; 
And though they're cut and marred in summer 

time. 
They hold their own like soldiers in their prime. 
And now it chanced we had to stop — repair 
A "blow-out," See the natives pause and 

stare. 
And crowd from hut and field about us close. 
As idle curiosity arose 

And filled their minds with wonder of the thing 
That moved o'er road without a foot or wing. 
The men quite nude except for little strip — 

[247] 



The women in bright tints were draped from 

hip 
To heel; withal there showed a brownish limb 
Or two, well rounded, firm if rather slim ; 
And o'er the breast there came another piece 
Which little ones through hunger would re- 
lease. 
These little ones are truly Nature's own, 
And naught they wear until they are quite 

grown. 
The oldest being in Ceylon, I'm sure, 
Approached the car, as drawn by wond'ring 

lure. 
He tottered fonvard leaning on a staff: 
His wrinkled face was lit by curious laugh, 
His body bent, and oh, so very thin 
He looked beside the others of his kin. 
His ebon hair had turned to shreds of white, 
A marked contrast to skin as dark as night. 
It chanced this stop was made in village street 
Which gave to us a very welcome treat. 
For we could see quite close the people and 
Their homes and manners of this tropic land. 

Then on again 'mid ever lovely scenes ! 
Now up, now down, between the palm-grown 

screens 
Among plantations of the rubber, tea: 
Through open parts, and many rice fields wee, — 
All built in terraced steps so' they could drain 
Them off soon after harvesting the grain. 
[248] 



Now this was done by means of little knife, 
Where men and women spend some part of life 
In stooping down and cutting 'way the straw 
By hand, then stacked it for the ox to draw 
Away in time in two wheeled carts 
To town or city's ever hungry marts. 

At times within a grain-cut patch where still 
The water lay, one saw a bullock drill 
A hole and sprawl therein with sweet content, 
Although the sun was high in his ascent. 

Again we stopped at rest-house on a hill 
And there we slaked our thirst with ready will. 
We sat on the veranda in the shade 
And looked out on the picture which was laid 
Before our eyes on Nature's canvas fair. 
Portrayed in tints and lights and shadows 

rare — 
While little children came and sought a gift — 
Where moments sped away on wings too swift. 

About the time the day began to wane 
We reached a rugged mountain's foot. To 

gain 
Its crest we had to climb for sixteen miles 
Along a narrow road which turns and files 
Between plantations living 'mid the stones, 
With here and there a mill with all it owns. 
At every turn we made the picture grew, 
Until at length we found a wondrous view. 
Upon three sides the mountains opened wide 
Which formed a tree-grown wall on every side 
[219] 



Of smiling valley sleeping at their feet, 
Composed of terraced rice fields all so neat ; 
Amid which gleamed a tiny silver thread 
Which inlaid was within an em'rald bed 
Encircled by the standing grain of gold, 
While shadows from the western mountains bold 
Fell here and there in darker hues of light. 
Within the heavens not a cloud in sight 
To mar the glory of its sapphire blue, 
Which softer and yet softer ever grew 
As moments fleeting bore the sun to rest 
Which flashed its tinted beams on one great 

crest 
Called Adams Peak that sought to kiss the sky. 
While from the roadway looking far and nigh 
Below our feet were swaying tops of palms 
And tropic growth in all their varied charms. 

This road was oftentimes beset with cattle 
And their drivers, which we had to battle 
That we our way might take along the pass ; 
And some were children, and the native lass, 
Who bore great burdens on their little heads ; — 
And some were resting on the stony beds; 
Which gave a human touch to this wild place 
That did not lack a quaint and rugged grace. 

When darkness settled down upon the earth 
And Night to stars and glowing things gave 

birth. 
We stopped again to light the motor's lamp 

[250] 



And while we paused could feel the mountain 

damp 
And evening cold through our thin clothing 

strike. 
Alas ! perhaps the car did too dislike 
The sudden change from midday heat to cold. 
It would not start again ; but work or scold, 
We nothing won ; when after some delay 
A carriage came that took us on our way, 
And in this manner entered we the town 
Just as the moon peeped o'er the mountain's 

crown. 

Listen to the lapping of the water 

On Kandy's lake in silver clad. 
Listen to the whispers of the zephyrs 

Which seem to say how glad, how glad. 
Look beyond the palms on Ceylon's heavens 

There see a silver disk above 
Like a gem encircled with bright clusters 

Recalls and calls one's thoughts of love. 
Hist ! Beneath the shadows of yon mountain, 

Which bathes its tropic foot in lake. 
See a figure draped in white and crouching: 

'Tis dusky maiden wide awake ! 
Yet another almost nude and resting: 

Quite like the shadows is his skin. 
Tender thoughts of each for each go dreaming 

As fill all loving hearts within. 
See again the straw made hut of natives 

That's almost hid in grove of palms; 

[251] 



Shelters too the goats, the sheep and cattle 

Which doze in peace 'mid moonlit charms. 
Look to where the moonbeams cut the roadway ! 

There see the 'ricksha man come 'round. 
Nude he is as well, except for loin cloth, 

But fleet and moves without a sound. 
Look, oh look toward the eastern sky-line! 

Behold the growing touch of pink 
Turns to gold and crowns the mountain summits. 

And tints the lake from brink to brink. 
Lo ! the Huntsman of the East is waving 

On high the magic lamp of Day; 
Shows a loveliness to all beholders — 

A tropic fastness' fair display. 
Hark but once again to all these noises ! 

The Huntsman has aroused all things. 
Cries and sounds pour from confused strange 
masses 

As Day to all their labor brings. 

'Twas cries that called me to my window, just 
As Dawn touched eastern sky with reddish rust, 
Revealing 'neath my eye a little lake 
Which simmered still and clear. It seem'd to 

take 
The hills above its shores within its keep, 
And mirrored Day awaking from his sleep ; 
Yea, blushed like maiden from her love's caress, 
And glowed so sweetly in its golden dress. 
A lovely road ran all around its shore ! 
Upon my side there lay the town which for 
Some years, though long ago, was the chief seat 
[252] 



Of ancient Kandy kings. Here at their feet 
Their world did come with gifts and prayers 
And now they've passed beyond all worldly 

cares. 
Their palace still remains beneath a hill 
A mem'ry of those times now gone, but still 
'Tis used by foreign rulers of the land. 

Close by this place a temple has its stand 
Which holds within its keep a Buddha's tooth 
From which it takes its name. A very truth 
'Tis said to be. Although the tooth cannot 
Be seen its tale will never be forgot. 

'Mong yesterday's past ages fast asleep 
In mystic way to Kandy it did creep, 
And from that time it gave the kings their 

pow'r, 
And to the people faith through evil hour. 
A day did come when Hindoos took the town 
And Buddha's sacred tooth their prowess crown. 
These conquerors had heard of its great might 
Which caused their chief, through fear or urged 

by spite, 
To have it crushed in powdered bits and cast 
Into the sea. The conquered ones at last 
Aroused to their great loss then sought the foe, 
Not knowing of their sacred relic's woe, 
To beg for its return with countless wealth. 
The Hindoo king could not resist ! By stealth 
He had another made which he them gave. 
But made no hint of what he gave the wave. 
[253] 



To-day the people of Ceylon all think 
This tooth is real; withal some slyly wink 
And smile, for whispers say 'tis very great, 
Some six by two in inches they do prate. 
Now Buddha was a man, and if you pause 
To think perhaps you will too smile because 
These simple people think it is quite right 
Although the priests have kept it out of sight. 
Quite interesting is this templed place 
Which boasts some nine one hundred years of 

grace. 
The festival of the full moon is held 
In inner court 'mid beauty unexcelled 
By myriads of lights and flaming torch 
Which hang about the shrine and o'er the 

porch ; 
When pilgrims come with gifts and fervent 

prayers 
To seek relief from pressing worldly cares. 
A library filled with manuscripts of old, 
Some bound in wood, in leather set with gold ; 
Beside some kingly gifts which lend a charm. 
A moat lies 'fore the temple's terraced door! 
Above in years gone by on marbled floor 
The king once stood and watched parade pass 

by 

On yearly day of festival most high. 
Within the porch some frescoes deck the wall 
Which tell the awful punishment to all 
Who wrong commit by hand or lying tongue, 
[254] 



And rings its echoes still for old and young. 
Across the lake, of which I oft did speak, 
Are villas reaching to the mountain peak, 
Amid their gardens clothed in beauty rare, 
With views before their doors which are most 

fair. 
These hills are often cut by vales and dell 
Through which fall brooks from hidden moun- 
tain well, 
And rendered cool by thickest tropic shade 
'Mid which the waters sang and ever played. 

Hark to tiny voices singing 
Through a garden wondrous fair ! 
Bathed in golden sunshine clinging, 
Wrapped in beauty's perfect care. 
Lights and shadows flick'ring there and here: 
Paradise of old now brought so near: 
Filled with plants and blowing all the year: 
Where the wild things live without a fear. 
Hear the feathered warblers ringing ! 
Hear rejoicings in the air! 
Eye delights are ever bringing 
Gladness to my heart most rare. 

Inlaid among the hills beyond the town 
A garden blows that is Ceylon's true crown ! 
Its beauties are too great for words to tell. 
But thoughts which cannot be expressed will 
well 

[255] 



Within one's soul like springs which are e'er 

closed 
Whose pent up feelings long to be exposed. 

I think that all the spices of the East 
Are represented there; but not the least 
Are species of the fern, and all the palms 
That grow in tropic climes with feathered 

charms 
Where flowers rear their varied tinted heads 
In clustered group that with the sunlight weds. 
And plants whose leaves their color change 

when seen 
In different angles, show a velvet sheen 
Of blended tints most wonderful of all — 
Where vampire bats cry out their piercing call 
And hang from tree tops like unwholesome fruit. 
All living things they do not execute 
Within the boundaries of this paradise, 
And perfect safety reigns quite free, concise. 
One palm there is which marks the span of time ! 
It lives for fifty years ; when in its prime 
Gives birth to one fair flower, — then it dies 
And fades beneath the heat of tropic skies ; 
But on its leaves the Buddha truths are spread 
From which the hungry students can be fed. 

A river wends its way through pictured vale 
Where elephants at eve themselves regale 
And bathe within the cooling mountain stream, 
Or 'neath the shade enjoy a quiet dream. 
These beasts are used to do much heavy work, 
[256] 



And many wild within the jungle lurk. 

The car has been repaired so we start back 
Along another twisting mountain track. 
Amid this fastness precious stones are hid 
Like buried jewels 'neath a pyramid. 
All through the day 'till dusky night closed in 
We drove 'mid pictured scene that was a twin 
To that of yesterday, with but a pause 
At rest house; luncheon was the homely cause. 

What better place than here to say farewell 
Amidst the beauty of sweet Nature's dell 
To this fair land of earthly paradise 
That teems with life, with flowers, fruit, and 
spice ? 

Oh, l)ast thou ever said good-by 
With au revoir upon thy heart? 
Fate spreads my wings and bids me fly, 
And from my longings tears me 'part. 

Then thoughts are born in soul and mind 
That print the pictures of this land 
Which recollection e'er will bind. 
And come again at my command. 

I wave good-by with hearty will; 
But pray that au revoir may be 
The grain which falls from Future's mill 
To feed my hope on Life's wide sea. 



[257] 



THE AMBER PALACE OF JAIPUR 

High on a jungled mountain crest 
The Amber Palace finds a lonely rest! 
Although devoid of former regal pomp, 
Its walls still echo sounds of dancers' romp: 
Its open doors are ready to embrace 
Once more the princely owner of the place 
In beauty of the Oriental style 
Amid the brightness of a marbled pile. 
For all is kept prepared against the day 
When Jaipur's lord might will to pass that way. 
A steep and narrow winding path which leads 
From vale below through rocks and jungled 

weeds 
To castled mount enclosed by massive wall, 
Extending miles around above it all, — 
'Tis broke by towered gates of arched brown- 
stone 
And cut with holes where once the rifles shone: 
Where tread of soldiers of the guard oft rang 
Upon its narrow walk with martial clang. 
To-day the visitor on elephant 
Swings through the unmanned wall on moun- 
tain slant 
Amid the silence bom of nation's peace, 
And dwells in thought upon the war's decease, 
As looking o'er the same from his high seat 
He sees this wall on further hills complete, — 
A brownish streak against the blue of sky 
[258] 



Surrounding all its land both low and high, — 
A monument of ancient feudal might, 
But rendered useless now since birth of right. 
Then finds himself within a spacious court 
That lies below the palace which he sought 
And flanked by stables of the cavalcade. 
Dismounting 'neath the ever welcome shade 
Which many trees have spread about the place, 
His eyes rest on a long and broad staircase 
That rises, rippling, to the entrance door; — 
A fitting crown to its white marbled floor, 
A mass of inlaid, fretted work of old. 
That shines in the bright sun like yellow gold. 
A passage runs beneath these marbled stairs 
Which brings one to a Hindoo shrine that bears 
The name of Kali : Vengeance goddess vile ! 
'Tis she who roams beneath the stars' sweet 

smile 
Beheading all she meets with cruel hate, — 
An instrument perhaps of that dread Fate 
Who cut the thread of life beneath the oak 
That grew in darkness before the world awoke. 
The pictured shrine shows her with gleaming 

blade 
In midst of ruddy darkness glowing shade; 
A dripping necklace of the human heads 
About her neck are strung in bloody beds : 
Her eyes look like fierce balls of blazing fire 
Which pierce the dusk to seek her one desire. 
For untold years the natives to appease 
[259] 



Her wrath were wont each mom a man to seize. 
And drag before this shrine as sacrifice, 
That they might gain an earthly paradise. 
Until one day the rajah saw a light: 
Decreed that men should not be sent to night, 
And in their place a little goat be killed ; 
And so it is to-day as he had will'd. 

Another Hindoo god this place does deck ! 
With elephant's large head upon the neck 
Of human frame he sits upon his throne. 
Receiving worship from the Hindoos prone. 
Thus speaks the story from the ages past. 
This god a son of one of godlike cast 
Did lose his manlike head through vengeance 

wrath \ 
Forthwith his mother sent on every path 
A messenger to seek the infant's head — 
If unsuccessful he with death would wed. 
He searched both far and wide but could not 

find 
The thing he sought, and having death in mind, 
He cut an elephant's great head away 
And placed it on the trunk of human clay. 
Where it did grow, — became a part of liim — 
Fantastic freak of godhood's whim ! 
But all the same 'tis seen in Hindoo shrine 
Where'er the sun of Hindoo faith may shine. 

This passage also leads to upper court 
Where stands the divan of justice, wrought 
Of columned marble, set with inlaid stone, 
[260] 



And spread with rugs designed in fancy's tone. 
Where daily sat the rajah 'fore the crowd 
Who came with prayers — and at his feet there 

bowed. 
Surrounded by his court his durbar held 
In splendor which an Indian prince can weld. 
Behind the further wall his rooms are found, 
Though small, in greater beauty do abound. 
Beyond a court the palace of the queen 
Is hid behind a marbled, fretted screen. 
Supplied with luxury of eastern art. 
It teems with splendor through its every part ! 
T\vo mirrors set in boudoir's alcoved wall, 
Each side of window looking out on all 
The panorama lying far and wide. 
Are made of pieces, truly workman's pride, — 
Reflect a thousand times the figure 'fore 
Their faces, — miniature of it and more ; 
And as the object moves reflection sways 
An echo to the same in tiny plays. 

An open court where fountains used to splash 
And in the golden sunlight once did flash 
Is spread before f acaded inlaid porch ; 
Where imitation streams once gleamed 'neath 

torch 
Of day's great lamp, or glowed in night's soft 

Hght: 
Where haremed maids were wont to play from 

sight 
Of man in free abandoned natural grace. 
[261] 



A passage leads to steps, below whose base 
Is found the mirrored bath of these same dames ! 
Shut off from day, 'twas lit by colored flames 
Reflected o'er and o'er in brilliance rare, — 
A lovely setting for those bathers fair! 

Above this selfsame court a room is seen 
That once was dining-room of Amber's Queen! 
'Tis very small, with staircase leading down 
Up which was borne her feast cooked hot and 

brown. 
An anteroom for maidens of her suite 
(For she alone could only sit at meat) 
Kept off" intruders from the inner court ; 
Another room, in marble lattice wrought, 
Permitted her to see, and all unseen, 
The durbar of her prince through fretted screen 
When it was held below in outer court 
In splendor of the Oriental thought. 

Upon the palace roof the prince did sit 
Enjoying his retainers' merry wit 
Beneath the stars in night's refreshing breeze, 
While maidens danced and sang their lord to 

please. 
By day the view one sees from this same spot 
Is ver}^ grand indeed, with not a blot 
To mar the picture brushed by Nature's hand 
And spread upon earth's canvas, of her land. 
'Tis hung against a wall of sky dark -blue 
With background of the mountains' rugged 
view, 

[262] 



Which opens through a pass and shows a vale 
Beyond all tinted rich with emerald shale. 
There at its mouth a little village sleeps, 
Whose minareted mosque a guard still keeps ; 
Though held in barren mountains' fast embrace, 
Peeps o'er their arms in Oriental grace. 
One sees the road that winds like whitened thread 
Beneath their feet ; a little lake lies spread 
Below its footworn bed, which once did hold 
The beauties of the court in days of old 
Upon its placid waters ; while above 
Once bloomed a terrace filled with flowered love. 
But they, alas ! are also of the past 
And only broken remnants now do last. 
The Indian red sun still shines the same: 
Still forms the lights and shadows with its flame 
On jungled hills where beasts of prey still live, 
Wliich to the mountain folk a terror give. 
When darkness comes all men and cattle speed 
To safety, hiding from their wild, fierce greed. 
And venture not again upon the way 
Until the dawn proclaims another day. 
These beasts are safe from hunters of the place, 
Protected by the rajah's friendly grace, 
(Who dwells far off" in Jaipur's rosy town) 
As he alone can give permit to down. 
At times he comes to hold a tiger hunt 
And then this palace dons its old-time front. 
Returns to life, and echoes to the mirth 
Of princely pomp that gives it a new birth. 
[263] 



TAJ MAHAL OF AGRA INDIA 

Beneath a blazing ball men call the sun 
A land though burned has many beauties spun, 
Through which the ages too have done their 

part; 
But love of man for maid excels them all 
And Taj Mahal to-day is love's true hall I 

In times gone by an Indian prince once wed 
And placed a crown of queen upon the head 
Of one; yea, crowned her love of his whole life 
And put aside the concubine for wife. 
Some fourteen years they ruled the land in bliss 
Until Death came the lovely lips to kiss; 
But e'er the touch she begged her princely lord 
That he their love would ever keep and ward. 
And place her in a tomb by far more fair 
Than any that had been through love's fond 

care. 
Alas ! the touch which puts all lives to sleep 
Did cut apart these two with one fell sweep ! 
Then Death became creator of a pile 
Perpetuating Taj Mahal's sweet smile f 
For on the waste beyond the palaced fort. 
Of purest marble from the chisel wrought. 
There grew a wonder bom of love devout, 
Inlaid with gems, mosaic's work throughout. 
And in the rounded hall he placed the shrine 
Above the bed of her he called divine. 

[264] 



Then through a turn of fortune's wheel a 
change 
Was brought to him upon his life's short range 
When he awoke to find him closed within 
A palaced prison, while revolt did win 
From him his land, and through a son's vile 

hate. 
And there for seven years was held by Fate 
Until the chill of life's approaching end 
Was but the call from his true loving trend. 
His window gave upon the marbled place 
That hid from him her ever winning face, 
And as he sat and gazed upon the spires 
That stood as symbols of her pure desires 
And glistened in their purity of white 
Beneath the glory of the Indian light, 
His soul took flight and freed him from his 

jail 
Then with her spirit came within one pale. 
They laid him close beside his only queen 
Within her wondrous tomb, the fairest seen. 
Rewed by Death forever and fore'er, 
These two en j oy their rest from worldly care ! 



[265] 



A DREAM OF THE DESERT 

Through age on age the Egypt's goddess 

still 
Her crouching watch there keeps on sandstone 

hill: 
Still looks toward the Nile beyond the sand 
Of desert waste comprising mystic land. 
Her face yet wears a smile, mysterious light, 
That lit the centuries of an ancient night, 
And hides behind her massive brow the lore 
Of mystic things absorbed in days of yore. 
E'en though the hand of man has marred her 

face 
The dignity of time has clothed with grace 
The figure of the Sphinx on granite bed, 
And placed a crown of wonder on her head. 

The shadowed pyramid, is cast by sun 
Upon the templed site which man has won 
From sands and wind beneath the goddess' feet ; 
Whose roofless walls a stranger's eyes will greet : 
Who looks in awe upon yon massive peak 
That seems to pierce the sky, nor can scarce 

speak 
Of the great cost in human lives and years 
Of work to build ! One block or stone appears 
Too great by far to lift by mortal hands. 
But hundred thousand slaves toiled on the 

sands 
For thirty years, yea, died by scores from toil 
[266] 



To build for one a tomb from Assou'ns soil; 
But in the end he never found his rest, 
For tyranny had grown to' such a crest 
That when death came his slaves his body gave 
The dogs ! Yea, swept away on vengeance 

wave. 
Gigantic monuments of royal will 
And failure of design stand silent, still, 
Against the background of the desert sky 
And echoes even now the sufF'rer's cry. 

The twilight's ling'ring glow fast fading 

'way. 
Yet shows a tinted threshold to the day, 
Reveals a caravan just coming through 
A little Arab village of a few 
Mud huts and crooked streets, beneath the hill 
That's crowned by Pyramids and Sphinx's will. 
With stately step the camels came in file 
Across the plain below the angled pile 
Until midway, then halted at command, 
And resting on their knees upon the sand 
Became but atoms of the desert waste. 
Three tents appeared and by the men were 

placed ! 
Of paneled sides and rounded pointed tops, 
Which looked beneath the glowing stars like 

drops 
Of snow fresh fallen from a sky so clear 
It brought the stars themselves so very near. 
[267] 



Then later when the feast was done we spent 

Some time within the Oriental tent, 

Quite rich with hand embroid'ry's brightest 

tint 
In sumpt'ous fashion free from any stint, 
We watched the coming of the Queen of Night. 
'Twas late when she first showed her silver light ! 
A goddess newly born from River Nile 
Who looked on all around with wondrous smile ; 
And lo! the Sphinx reflected her sweet laugh, 
And brightly glowed as at a welcome chaff. 
For though the tongueless thing was ages old, 
She knew this Queen of Evening Breezes cold 
Was older still in years and wisdom gained 
From looking at the world with efforts strained 
To solve the mysteries of an ancient age 
That are locked up within this silent sage. 
The Pyramids themselves wore silvered side, 
That grew more brilliant with advancing stride 
Of this fair Desert Queen of Silver Night; 
But on the sands she shed a rosy light 
Which gave a weird appearance to the scene 
That even Night herself could not it screen; 
While I, in awe and rapture at this sight. 
Could think of naught except Arabian Night 
Retold anew in colored pictured leaves 
So very real, which now my soul believes. 
Three yellow stars that rested on the ground 
Were but the campers' lamps ; yet not a sound 
Was heard about to mar the Egypt's air, 
[268] 



While there the Arab watch took stealthy care 
To see that all was well. In flowing gown 
Of white and blue, with head in turbaned crown 
He crouched a living guard of all around 
Beside his camels from their loads unbound; 
And from his posture seemed to bid me rest, 
And cease my gazing up, and at the west; 
To come within my desert home and dream 
The thoughts aroused by touch of silver stream. 

I soon was sung to sleep by desert wind 
That shook the tent and stirred my dreaming 

mind 
Until as by a magic touch the night 
Of silver sheen had changed to golden light; 
And lo! I woke and found that Dawn was at 
My door, and spread o'er desert's sandy mat 
In all the glory of his tinted hue, 
Revealed to wand'ring eyes the morning view. 
His advent brought the camp to life and sound ! 
Then things that looked like bundles on the 

ground 
Stood up as men, who started in to toil 
That they the present camping site might 

spoil. 
And as the mom advanced on rapid wing 
It showed the caravan a crawling thing 
Which wound its way between the waves of 

sand 
That swept the bowl of sky on every hand; 
And when noon came the Pyramids were but 
[269] 



Twin-angled points, the eastern skyline cut. 
We paused to rest through heat of middle day 
Beneath impromptu tent built anyway t 
A bright red robe tied tO' a barreled gun 
And handled cane kept off the warmth of sun, 
While we below in crouching mode did eat 
The feast, and dreamed away the moments 

fleet, — 
A welcome halt in which to stroll in thought 
Through wonders which the hand of God hath 

wrought ! 
Devoid of all save Allah and the sand, 
It is a temple built by His own hand. 
The roof is one great canopy of blue 
That's lit by golden light the whole day 

through ; 
And then at night it glows with tiny lamps 
That make the limestone rocks appear like 

camps, 
And many weird, fantastic forms of things 
Unknown and known, o'er which the wind e'er 

sings 
And drives the sand like snow before its blast; 
Which cuts the rock in its swift journey past. 
Yea, sweeps it clean upon the hills and flats ; 
Or piles the sand in drifts or smooth as mats ; 
Or forms in ripples on the desert waste ; 
Nay, never still, but ever being chased ! 
The wind sweeps clean the desert's floor of 

flint— 

[270] 



Of pieces large and small, of which no stint 
Was made by the Great Maker of the place. 
Though pattemless in form, it owns a grace, 
And gives a character to hills and plain, — 
Yea, Nature's carpet of a stony grain ! 
But silence is the greatest force that's there ! 
Above, below, yea, floating on the air — 
Surrounding all the waste it bears right down, 
Enclosing all within its awful frown. 

The afternoon still finds us on our way, 
Though somewhat weary from the camel's sway, 
When looking out beyond I see a lake 
With palms around its shore. Again I take 
Another glance, and lo ! it simmers still 
And bright, but not far off, — without a rill 
To break the smoothness of its silvered face. 
While tree tops biiish the sky with feathered 

grace. 
And as we toward it went, it came not near. 
But ever in the distance did appear; 
And then the knowledge came that this strange 

sight 
Was but mirage reflected by the light 
To tease a stranger with its restful look 
Of ease and shade beneath a palm-grown nook. 
The Night swooped down on flapping, dusky 

wing 
And spread her shadow over everything! 
She chilled the breeze as with a touch of ice 
That made our little tents a paradise 
[271] 



Of warmth, and brought refreshing, dreaming 

sleep. 
When Dawn at first above the sand did peep 
I woke, and caught his smile through open 

door. 
Then at a later hour the Day once more 
Discovered us upon the desert track ; 
But was quite veiled by gathering clouds of 

black 
Which gave delightful shade throughout the 

way, 
And made a change to somber from the gay 
Of yesterday's fierce gleaming, yellow sand, 
And darkened flinty floor spread o'er the land. 

About the hour when sun was seeking rest, 
And men and beasts as well, we reached the 

crest 
Of one of those great desert sandy waves 
Whose brow was massed with sandstone 

boulders' graves 
Of many shapes and sizes and there placed 
By Him as mounds to time upon the waste. 
When lo ! beneath our feet lay emerald grass ! 
Oasis of Fayoum ! Extensive mass 
Of waving palms and fields of growing grain, 
Inlaid by silver threads from river's drain ; 
While just beyond there gleamed the sacred 

lake 
Of bitter waters. As of goldsmith's make. 
They sparkled 'neath the glow of passing day, 
[272] 



And formed the desert's piece of jeweled spray. 
A country filled with cattle, sheep and goats, 
Where dark skinned children of the soil, in 

coats 
Of gaudy color, strove to gain the wealth 
From dying seed which springs in quiet stealth 
From darkness lurking 'neath the ebon ground. 
A land where feathered snipe and quail abound, 
A paradise for sportsmen of the gun 
Who take their joy in killing things for fun. 
Hard by the line where sand kissed grass 

we stayed 
A day or two, and drank of beauties laid 
About our camp, and rested from our ride ; 
And then we entered on the road beside 
The stream where dAvell the Arab and his flock 
In customs of the ages past, which mock 
At modem manners of the present day 
In field, at home, or on the traveled way. 

Beyond Sanoures, ancient Arab town. 
An orchard of date palms an hill does crown ; 
And there beneath the SAvaying, feathered tops, 
Surrounded by the early rip'ning crops, 
We pitched our camp amid the welcome shade, 
Where lights and shadows played as branches 

swayed 
In wind e'er newly born out on the waste; 
Where patient beasts enjoyed a luscious taste; 
Where all the land seemed wrapped in wondrous 

dream 

[273] 



And slept right on in suns bright golden 

stream. 
But soon the hour came when breathing things 
Must seek the rest which evening always brings, 
And as the starlight filtered through the palms 
In all bewitching, dainty, fairy charms. 
Sweet slumber came to me within my tent 
And through its pictured dreams my thoughts 

had vent. 



[274] 



DREAMS BESIDE AN ENGLISH ROAD- 
SIDE 

I CAME to know thee as thou art, 

By lovely Nature dressed, 
And touched with gold from sun's warm 
heart — 

By ocean winds caressed. 

I came to know thy rock-bound hills, 
Thy heathered moors up north, 

Thy famous streams, and hillside rills, 
And fields of bracken cloth. 

I crave to know thy secrets best 

Of romance, life and death, 
That hide and sleep within thy breast, 

Through Time's swift passing breath. 

I crave to hear thy castles speak. 

Thy minsters, too, as well ; 
Thy tales and songs of brave and weak — 

Come, whisper, — pray do tell! 

DREAMS 

Fantastic, vivid pictures of one's thought 
That to the mind unconsciously are brought: 
Some painted from events of every day. 
And many of themselves form strange array 
Of phantoms, weird, grotesque, in act and talk, 
[275] 



Improbable yet real, which come and walk 
Through silent, sleeping hours of day or night ; 
Reflecting o'er and o'er, on mirror bright 
That ever hangs upon the memory's wall, 
The possible, impossible, of all 
Those things which crowd and fill the active 

mind: 
Unstilled and wild as any winter's wind, 
Which brings a shudder to the sleeper's frame, 
Or sets the blood to boiling at a name; 
Quite uncontrolled, and lasting till, with start, 
One wakes I Then in a flash they all depart, 
But leave behind an echo' of their call 
That dazes one, as from a sudden fall. 

ALONG AN ENGLISH ROADSIDE 

A traveler once took himself away 
From cities' atmosphere of ceaseless fray, 
To seek relief in Nature's favored nook, 
Among the hills and vales of running brook ; 
Beneath the whisp'ring trees and blue of sky ; 
Where hedgerows rise above the lanes so high 
Which lead to heathered moors away up north. 
Beyond the barren hills of stony cloth. 
They dip below the shaggy arms of green 
That stretch out o'er, and form a leafy screen 
Against the sun, which all the same creeps 

through. 
Now here, now there, like drops of golden dew; 

[276] 



Which change to silver, when the Queen of 

Night 
Ascends her throne and throws the cosy light 
From homely inn aslant across the lane 
That shines a welcome through its every pane. 
Refreshment done and passed, one draws his 

chair 
Before the hearthstone filled with cheerful glare ; 
And sees the pictures leaping from the flame 
Which pass in swift review before the same, — 
A moving film from camera of his thought, 
Which there once more in dreams to him are 

brought. 

A royal borough stands beside a stream 
That through the ages lent a crystal beam 
To lovely landscape laid about its walls ; 
Which oft had seen the grandeur, heard the 

calls 
Of fierce-fought battles, and the rich array 
Of princely court that long agO' held sway 
Within the palace of the Kings-own-Town * 
Whose Saxon throne, an oblong block of stone, 
Still stands amid the present market place. 
Where their stronghold did the spot once grace. 
And here each Saxon king his crown did take, 
And to his subjects vows of faith there make. 
To-day its pedestal does bear each name, 
Together with a coin of his fame; 

* Kingston. 

[277] 



The while their bones in Winchester do lie 
In golden caskets on its screen up high. 

A mighty pile lies hid behind its wall 
Whose empty moat once drank of the same fall 
Of flowing stream that touched the ancient 

town, — 
A mem'ry of a churchman's earthly crown 
Soon lost to him through greed of royal king : 
But death relieved the priest of shameful sting, 
And of his retinue no more were seen. 

Still Hampton Court looked o'er its lawns of 

green, 
While all its splendid rooms and spacious 

courts 
Re-echoed to the sounds which royal thoughts 
Had caused to be assembled in its wall 
To try his queen, quite innocent of all 
Her kingly spouse had set upon her head, — 
Which shameful act quite filled her soul with' 

dread, — 
In private chapel of the castled pile 
The king, before his council, sought with wile 
To have his marriage vows there set aside. 
Above in little room the queen did bide 
Among her women, waiting for her fate. 
Anon an ear she gave to little gate 
Which opened from a secret staircase right 
Into the chapel from her room of fright. 
Resolved to plead her cause before the throne, 
[278] 



She tore away, and down the steps of stone; 

Then suddenly appeared before them all 

In council gathered in the holy hall. 

Before she could be stopped, she reached her 

lord, 
And at his footstool knelt on marbled board, 
Embraced his knees, then spake her words of 

tears, 
And called as witnesses the many years 
As queen, of wifehood, and her faithful love; 
Beseeching aid from Him who dwells above. 
The jovial monarch, filled with kingly wrath, 
Then called his guards to move her from his 

path. 
And lock her in his London Tower strong, — 
As there she could not do him further wrong, 
Commanding his brave councilors to break 
His bonds forthwith, and for their lives and 

sake. 
Yea, this they did! Then later in the day 
They sat at mighty feast in proud array. 
Set forth in palace splendid banquet hall ; 
Where wondrous tapestries there decked the 

wall. 
Beneath the arched and blazoned window 

frames, 
All filled with coats of arms and noble names. 
They pledged long life to him, their gracious 

king, — 
Forgetting her who smarted 'neath their sting. 
[279] 



If she of Arragon were to return 
To her old rooms, her cheeks would burn 
On seeing crowds flock through her royal halls, 
And stare upon the pictures on the walls ; 
To hear them boast that here is found the 

great, 
Perhaps the largest, gallery that Fate 
Has brought and placed in England's merrie 

land. 
But if she then, upon the other hand, 
Were but to look from windows on the view 
That lies beneath their sills, and skies of blue. 
When springtime's lovely bloom and balmy air 
Have brought to light sweet flowers fair; 
The sparkling fountains, and the mighty trees, 
(Which a traveler but seldom sees) 
She would be pleased to see her people free 
To visit her old place and happy be. 

Five hundred years ago, a forest stood 
Amid the valley of the Thames, which would 
Continually its course e'er wind between 
The mighty trees and hills of bracken green. 
That lay for miles around fair Hampton Court; 
Where once the princely crowd its game had 

sought ; 
And oft at royal hunting lodge their rest 
Had found, and ceased awhile from hunting's 

zest. 
This Lodge of Oatlands lived to see great fame. 
[280] 



A son of Charles the Second bore its name, 
And with his hand there placed a cedar tree; 
Which stands to-day, as mighty as can be, 
Surrounded by great oaks, amid the fern. 
In spite of time which pressed them hard and 

stern. 
It chanced, ere this, Elizabeth the queen 
Appeared with all her court upon the scene 
To hunt the deer within their forest home. 
The merry throng would through the daytime 

roam 
The lovely woods, with huntsmen, dogs, and 

horse. 
To seek a creature's life without remorse. 
The queen rode well in front with hunter by 
Her rein, with dogs all breaking in full cry 
Behind a royal hart that sped away 
On wings of fear. At last, when brought to 

bay, 
He turned upon the dogs and drove them back. 
The Virgin Queen came on without a slack 
Of speed. The deer saw her at once and made 
A charge at her, which quickly would have laid 
Her dead, or badly hurt, upon the ground. 
Had not the huntsman, with a mighty bound. 
Sprung from his horse's back to' that of deer, 
And plunged his knife in it without a fear. 
The creature threw^ him off, laid bare his heart 
With sweep of its sharp horn, e'er it did part 

[281] 



With its own life. So died the man and 

beast, — 
Both humble members of a hunting feast. 
The beast, once king amongst those of its kind, 
Had fought its fight with regal fury blind: 
The man had saved his queen from awful fate, — 
A pawn who gave himself to save a mate. 

Old relics of the prehistoric times 
Are found in Surrey hills, if one but climbs 
A bit, and seeks among the pines and fern, 
And from an ancient camp can something learn : 
How early natives guarded self and wife, 
Tlieir goods from foes, as well as mode of life. 
Hard by the Walton bridge some stakes are 

seen 
That rise from river's bed and waters green ; 
Remains of Caesar's bridge o'er which he crossed, 
Which through the ages never have been lost. 

The road runs close to river's woody bank 
On which some lazy cattle stood and drank; 
Then opens out by shady meadows fair. 
All rich in floral wealth and summer air. 
At this sweet river nook, in bygone years, 
King John here met his barons, and through 

fears 
Aroused by their demands for further grace. 
He granted greater freedom to their race. 
Although this charter seldom saw the light, 
[282] 



Yet the later years did feel its might, 

And nations then unborn made laws from same 

That e'en to-day gives Runnymede great fame. 

Not far beyond, upon some rising ground 
Whose crest with turret walls of stone is bound, 
There rests, behind a palaced fortress strong. 
Well filled with towers, courts, a wondrous 

throng 
Of ancient medijEval strength and work. 
Where romance of the ages e'er will lurk; 
Where laughter of a day was changed to tears, 
And often life was closed to worldly fears. 
Its keep, a tower round, looks far abroad, — 
Supports the royal banner of its lord. 
The sovereign. For nine hundred years it 

waved 
Above those walls ; fierce storms and battles 

braved ; 
Still shows that Windsor is a royal home, 
Though time tlirough evolution ruthless roam. 
Beneath its church there sleep its queens and 

kings. 
Above the choir, knightly blazoned things 
Are speechless voices of tJie Gartered Knights, 
Whose names in gold antiquity yet writes 
Upon each stall, since days of Edward Third. 
Its cloistered courts are echoed dreams. A 

word, 
A look, a deed from one of princely state 
[283] 



Still sounds a faint vibration, e'en so late 
As now, although its yesterday has been 
Asleep for years, with others of its kin. 

A sweet-faced, gentle maiden walking there, 
And drinking freely of the sweetened air 
That floated in upon the sun's bright ray 
Which made the fountain seem more gay 
And chased a shadow from an obscure nook, 
That gave the grass-grown court a brighter 

look, 
Was seen by royal eyes from window small 
That set in balcony upon the wall. 
At once King Henry craved her for his own, 
And vowed he would her wed e'er time had grown 
Much older. Little did the maiden think. 
That lovely morn, that she had reached her 

brink 
And stood above a gulf, — that naught could 

save 
Her being sv/ept therein on vengeance wave! 
Alas! Poor Annie suffered all too' soon. 
And with her head repaid the ro3fal boon. 
Weird dreams of demons float in on wind 
That blows from the great park, which one can 

find 
Beyond the eastern terrace of the pile, 
A forest spread o'er land for mile on mile. 
And in whose fastness lived all kinds of game. 
There tales are told of Heme the Hunter's fame, 
Once man, who sold himself to evil ways, — 

[284<] 



Became the forest king for all its days. 
Beneath Heme's Oak he had a palaced cave 
Where none that Hved had dared him there to 

brave ; 
But when the thunder rolled, and lightning 

glared, 
With fierce delight the forest through he fared 
With motley crew ; pursued the flying deer. 
And woke the forest echoes far and near. 
On one such night when Henry walked with- 
out, 
He looked with awe, then gave a mighty shout ; 
For in the lightning's flash he saw the ghost 
Of this same demon standing near his post, 
With spreading, antlered helm upon his head 
And visage fierce, which filled him with strange 

dread. 
"Hail, Henry, King! Thou, too, dost brave 

the night. 
And lovest, like myself, to see a sight 
That only such as we can understand. 
For thou at heart are demon of this land. 
While I am tied, — by forest leafy bound. 
Yet hark, anon, while I thy fate will sound. 
Thy end is near; death's shaft is close its mark. 
With dogs thou hast me hunted through my 

park. 
And dogs shall lap thy royal blood e'er long 
In vengeance for all those who suffered wrong !" 

[285] 



Thus spoke the ghost, in voice of thunder's 

roll 
That shook with awe the guilty kingly soul. 
And when the end did come these words came 

true. 
Tlirough accident the casket broke; then two 
Staghounds leaped out from 'mong the crowd, 

and lapped 
A ruddy stream, while all in awe stood wrapped. 

Within a meadowed park, beyond the reach 
Of human eyes and traffic's clanging speech 
That passes o'er the country's fair liighway 
There, wrapped in silence save for lark's sweet 

lay, 
A church within its yard still dozes through 
The daylight hours, just as it e'er did do. 
It watched the mounds and stones which time 

had raised 
Beneath its feet and o'er the mead where grazed 
The herds, hard by the manor of their lord. 
One stone is found below the tow'r, whose 

broad 
Flat top, now dark with age, is cut with name 
Of one great man who gave Stoke Poges fame. 
For here sleeps Gray, surrounded by the peace 
Of which he sang; whose notes will never cease, 
As long as English tongue can sound the praise 
Of "Elegy in a Country Churchyard's" phrase. 
Yet here as well still stands the cedar tree. 

[286] 



Beneath, one can a little bench there see 
On which the poet sat and wrote his lay, 
Until the twilight hours forsook the day. 

On manor of the land once lived the Penns 
Whose son became a member of the Friends. 
He gave his name to land beyond the seas, 
Whose boyhood days were spent beneath these 
trees. 

Again 'tis shown from simple great is bom, 
As from the darkest night there comes the dawn. 

The road runs by the stream to Oxford town. 
The ancient seat of learning wears a frown 
Of wisdom which the ages past have taught. 
It turned the turret walls quite gray with 

thought ; 
But still the river sparkles, laughs with glee 
Because it steals the students ; sets them free 
From labors at the book and bears them off . 
To Nature's haunts, with merry, splashing scoff. 

We mount a crest, and far as eye can see 
The road winds through fair vales of mead and 

tree; 
Then climbs a hill and runs along its top 
Whose slopes are fragrant with the flowered 

crop; 
Soon dips below and skirts a noble park. 
High walled and wooded, bearing time's hall- 
mark, 

[287] 



Which hides from common eyes an earl's fair 

seat, 
A suiting crown to landscape at its feet. 

The Hall of Warwick, maker of a king, 
Though many hundred years ago — the wing 
Of fame is still above its towers spread, 
And many lines of tale and song has fed. 
The rooms of state are very rich in art; 
And one, Queen Annie's room, is set apart 
In sacred memory, with the bed the same. 
Which bears a crown and letters of her name. 

The baron's hall is filled with suits of mail, 
But furnished well upon a modem scale ; 
And holds beside a crowd of relics old. 

The fairest picture that the eyes unrolled 
Is seen from windows of this grand old room. 
A painting, rich in tints from Nature's bloom. 
Reveals the country's beauties spread around. 
Fair lawns and meads, grand oaks and knolls 

abound. 
All paved with sunbeams and the shadows dark ; 
Or dotted with some sheep, a whitened spark. 
Which glows anon against the emerald ground. 
Straight down below is heard the rushing sound 
Of Avon's stream' that washes ivy's home. 
And flows beyond to feed the meadow's loam. 
It looks a band of silver 'neath the blue 
Of summer sky, the which completes the view. 



[288] 



The small, but quaint, old town of Stratford 

sleeps 
Upon the Avon's gentle bank, -which creeps 
With noiseless ripples o'er its winding course 
Beneath the trees, with scarcely any force. 

The birthplace of a famous bard of old 
Has stood the many turns from warmth to cold 
Which passing seasons left before its door. 
While age has darkened its old beams and floor, 
And makes the winding staircase groan and 

creak 
'Neath tread of modern step throughout each 

week. 
Here lived the playwright through his boyhood 

prime ; 
And often, in the balmy twilight-time 
He found his way to low thatched cottage neat 
That lay a mile beyond his own poor seat, 
Where dwelt his love, the treasure of his life, 
Who later on became his faithful wife. 

A change in contour of surrounding hills, 
That rise above the edge of rapid rills 
Denotes a change has come to' landscape's side. 
'Tis here the roads through narrow gorges glide, 
That form the base of mountains high and bare 
Of all save rocks and gorse's yellow flare. 
A famous spot in days of romance bold 
Was this, where barons ruled and spent their 
gold. 

[289] 



Here Haddon Hall rests close to mountain side ; 
And Chatsworth House beyond the range does 

hide; 
And in the vales are famous springs for sick ; 
'Twixt Matlock, Buxton 'tis right hard to pick. 

The "Cat and Fiddle" crowns the highest crest 
Of all fair England's hills in east or west. 

The lovely hedgerows, marking out the land 
That lies toward the south, give place to bands 
Of stone in form of dull and blackish wall. 
The houses, too, of stone are built ; and all 
Looks cold and bleak ; while village streets are 

quite 
Deserted, and it might as well be night. 
For all one sees of human life is naught, 
And stillness seems the only thing here wrought. 

The road runs 'round these hills toward the 

north 
Where stretch the moors with pinkish heathered 

cloth. 
But first it cuts dark Sherwood Forest through 
Where roamed bold Robin with his bow of yew; 
Then comes to door of "Ye Old Bell," an inn 
Upon the edge of Bamby Moor, Within, 
One finds a blaze in cosy ingle nook. 
'Tis like a page from out an old-time book 
Where one can see the stages stop for rest 
Receive a hearty welcome and the best 
[290] 



The inn affords for man, as well as beast. 
This was five hundred years ago at least ; 
But yet the sign swings out to-day the same, — 
Its door stands wide to all who seek its fame. 

Then on again, across a Yorkshire moor, 
(Until the twilight hour but showed the lure) 
A walled in city, with its ancient gate. 
Receives the Great North Road, its old-time 

mate; 
And it becomes a part of staid old York, 
With little rambling streets that twist and fork. 
Upon a height there rests its minster grand, 
The church of an archbishop of the land. 
The ruins of its feudal castle tower 
(Which housed the Saxon kings in danger's 

hour. 
And sent the last. King Harold, forth to greet 
His Norman foes. At Hastings they did 

meet. 
And never, never more did York behold 
Its English band and leaders bold) 
Still lifts its head above the stone-bound town, 
And shines, beneath the sky, an ancient crown. 

Beyond old Marston Moor, which drank the 

blood 
In hard fought fight of heroes brave and good. 
The road runs through another sleepy town 
With ruined castle then drops swiftly down 
[291] 



Through rock-bound vale, where flows the 

"Dripping Well," 
Where things are changed to' stone through 

water's spell; 
And there one sees a little empty cave, — 
A memory, left by Time's receding wave 
Of Mother Shipton, — thought by all around 
To be a witch because her speech was sound. 
"Some day the thoughts of men will swiftly 

fly 

Around the world in twinkling of an eye. 
The day will come when carriages will run 
Without their horses o'er the roads, for fun." 
Much more she said which truly came to pass. 
And much there still remains like growing grass. 
Rewarded well she was for speaking wise: 
She gained from priests a burning stake as 
prize ! 

Another famous bath is Harrogate. 
Concerning its deep springs do many prate. 
It lies in vale amid the Yorkshire moor. 
And heals the sickly pilgrim, rich and poor. 

Yet still the road runs north until, at length. 
The great North Sea lies tumbling in its 

strength. 
Below the cliffs of Scarborough of fame. 
Toward the south, and Filey just the same. 
The road above the sea does rise and fall. 
With wondrous views of sea and castled wall ; 
[292] 



Now bears toward the south to Lincoln Town — 
A Roman fort of old with walls of brown 
That stands above the meads of Lincoln's Shire, 
Whose castle England's foes did oft desire. 

Now one of seven roads, which Romans made 
From Winchester to towns through English 

glade 
In days when they did gain the land by strife 
And gave but little thought to homes and life. 
Did find its end at Lincoln's towered gate, 
Which gave the town through all the years much 

weight. 
One time an Edward held his Parliament 
Within the minster's chapter house, and sent 
His will and laws abroad upon the land. 

Queen Eleanor, of saintly fame and hand. 
Here closed her eyes upon the world's fair light. 
Embalmed she was within the minster's site, 
And then borne forth to Westminster by day.- 
At night they stopped, and where her casket 

lay 
A cross was raised in mem'ry of her name. 
The first appeared in Lincoln of old fame; 
The last, at Charing Cross in London Town, 
In silence speaks her name through ages down. 

Through countless towns, all very much alike. 
Whose picturesqueness does one's eyes e'er 

strike. 
And 'mid the lovely, wooded country side 
[293] 



Which blows in all its beauty, broad and wide; 
The road through ancient Beverly does pass, 
And passed the minster with its rare stained 

glass ; 
Then on through country somewhat flat and 

bare, 
And comes to Hull on Humber, — not so fair 
As others of its kind, with less renown 
In history's page, and wearing smoky frown, 
Withal its fame lies in its ships and port! 
Upon the great North Sea where trade is 

brought 
From distant lands that lie beyond the waves, 
And where some hardy men have found their 

graves. 

No outlet has the road across the stream 
That sweeps the city's door with silvered gleam. 
So must return again for many miles 
Until at last a bridge is found, which smiles 
A hearty welcome into Cambridgeshire. 

In ages past this part was fen and mire, — 
Low-lying land, with island in its midst 
On which the monks of Ely dwelt in mist 
That hid their lives from those who lived out- 
side. 

The old cathedral does still here abide 
And counts its age, some seventy score of years. 
A wondrous monument it now appears, — 
The ceiling of its nave in paintings done, 
[294] 



Mosaic columns from the ages won. 

Its towers look on cloistered courts below 

Which through its time have felt the sun and 

snow. 
'Twas here that Hereward, last of England's 

old, 
Was taken by the Norman Conq'ror bold. 
Betrayed by her he fancied in his youth, — 
Forsaking one who gave him naught but 

truth, — 
He placed his hand within the Norman hand, — 
Became his man — the last of England's band! 
No more were left for William to contend, 
Except his own, who one day brought his end. 

Yet still the road sweeps on and bears fore'er 
Toward the south, the east and western glare. 
It comes once more to midland counties fair 
Where famous Kenilworth stands sad and bare, 
Save for the ivy clinging to its wall 
That gapes with sightless eyes upon it all. 

The brownstone ruins stand on rising ground 
Amid the midland beauties. Some are bound 
By ivy's crooked arms through ages past, 
And some are bare exposed to sun and blast. 
The roofless halls are carpeted with lawn 
Of velvet grass, that glittered in the mom 
With diamond drops of crystal on each leaf ; 
But soon were lost, for day became a thief 

[295] 



And stole last night's rich treasure from the 

pile. 
Still in return she gave her golden smile, 
And dipped the towers in a bath of gold. 
Yea, took the landscape, too, within her fold, 
That rolled beyond as far as eye could gain. 
She played at hide and seek through sightless 

pane. 
And flickered through a loophole in a wall; 
Relit a secret staircase sudden fall ; 
Then shot a beam in dungeon's inky nook 
That e'er was deaf tO' mumiurs of a brook 
Which years ago once kissed its outer stone. 
And now with all the rest was still — alone. 

A monument of ancient baron's might! 
A seat where kings were wont to shed their 

hght! 
To-day a ruined pile of mystic thought, 
Which time through ages down tO' us has 

brought. 

It chanced the traveler quite weary grown 
From climbing up and down within the frown 
Of this old castled keep, then sought a rest 
Upon the grass that formed the hillside crest 
Beneath a sightless Norman window frame 
That once gave light to olden knight and dame. 
And let the sun on coats of armor play 
That decked the grand old hall in proud array, 
And showed the inmates gathered all in one 
[296] 



Around the feast which huntsman's skill had 

won ; 
Or so it might have been in olden time, 
In days when this old pile was in its prime. 

With eyelids closed in sleep it had returned 
Once more to its old fame, and candles burned 
Like stars at eve in sconces on the wall, 
With here and there a torch, that showed them 

all 
In solemn conclave gathered 'fore its king 
To hear and pass a judgment on a thing 
That filled the bishop and the priests with awe: 
A nun forsooth had broke her convent law. 
The bride of Holy Church had faithless been! 
There stood alone to answer for her sin. 

Quite slight and fair of face in snowy robe, — 
Enshrouded head ; yet showed a lock 'neath lobe 
Of pearly ear which glowed like raven's plume, 
A marked contrast to' skin of youth's fresh' 

bloom. 
And cheek just tinted with the rose's blush 
Which fear awoke amid that august crush. 
The head held down but hid her moistened eye 
Fast fixed on tiny bundle held up high 
In trembling arm upon her heaving breast ; 
Which only proved tO' be the crowning crest 
Of guilt, that needed not a spoken word 
To down her swiftly as a flying bird. 

Uprose the priest with angry eye and face, 
And homage made before the kingly grace; 
[297] 



Retold the sacrilege of yonder nun, 
Demanding punishment should straight be done 
By fire and the stake — the two as one — 
Before the rising of the morrow's sun. 
His words were echoed by the holy throng: 

"Oh, justice, lord, the king! Thy hand is 
strong. 

Now strike the culprit with all righteous 
force, 

And place them both within the flames' fierce 



course 



I" 



"Hark ! Hast thou naught to say why thou 

shouldst burn? 
But give the name of him whose deed did 

turn 
Thee traitor. Let him suffer for this too; 
And if against thy will he this did do. 
So will I hold these priests to penance dire 
Because of thy fair youth and my desire." 
Thus spake the king to her before his throne, 
While all stood still to catch the answer's drone. 
But not a word spake she ; fast clasped her child. 
And looked above with timid eyes, though wild. 
Again the vengeance cry came from the 
throng ! 
"Attonement must be had for this great wrong !" 
The lady abbess knelt before the king. 
Then said: 

"Because of this great evil thing 
Much shame now rests upon my sacred ward 
[298] 



And punishment must come from thee, my 

lord. 
Because of her fair youth refuse the fire 
And grant the punishment I most desire. 
Decree instead a bed of stone be made 
Within the thickest wall of dungeon's shade ; 
When placed thereon the wall may be rebuilt, 
And there she can but sleep away her guilt." 
"Dost hear, thou sinful one, of this request? 
Confess his name, I'll grant thee life and rest 
As such as thou canst gain in future life 
Through being neither maid, nor lawful 

wife." 
Thus spoke the king with mercy in his heart; 
But with the priests this virtue had no part. 
"Wed by stealth before I came within 
The convent walls and shadow of my sin ; 
Against my will compelled to take the vows 
Which had less meaning than the whispering 

boughs 
For me. ]\Iy love, borne off to savage wars. 
Was lost to me because of those hard laws 
Which aid not such as I, mere feeble thing. 
From wrath of vengeful priests who chant 

and sing 
Of Him who lived to help the helpless ones. 
With hardened heart, he boldly to thee comes 
And craves the life of innocence and truth; 
And mine, just filled with the fresh bloom of 

youth. 

[299] 



To such I cannot trust myself ; not e'en 
With thy most princely word and royal 

screen. 
Much more the name of him who has my love 
I keep from all, except the God above; 
And die in happiness I once possessed 
In days when love's sweet touch my lips 

caressed." 
Thus spoke the maid in answer to the prince ; 
Whose words enraged the priests, yet made them 

wince. 
They called again for judgment on the case 
In vengeful tones, with frowning angry face. 
"Yea, make the bed within the prison wall 
That stands deep down beneath the water's 

fall. 
I so decree that this shall be the fate 
Of her who has incurred the Church's hate !" 
So spake the king; then straightway left the 

hall. 
Which soon was emptied of the priests and all. 
The abbess paused beside the doomed: 

"One chance for thee has in my mind just 

loomed ! 
But call for draft of wine before the light 
That bums is shut forever from thy sight. 
Drink deep, but first do wet thine infant's 

lip. 
So wilt thou both glide out in sleep, like ship 

[•300] 



That disappears in gathering shades of 

night — 
Without a pain or fear of death's hard fight." 
So whispered she, and passed upon her way ; 
But left a face quite lit by hope's bright ray. 

The workmen paused, their work was all but 

done! 
They waited, now the coming of the one 
For whom the bed was made, and wall torn 

down, 
In silence 'mid the blackness and the brown, 
Yet made the more intense by flaming torch 
In recess placed, whose flame the walls did 

scorch. 
A tiny loophole in the massive wall 
Let a silver moonbeam gently fall 
Upon the floor, that showed another night 
Had come since that which saw the priestly 

spite. 
These men were masked that none might ever 

know 
A face of those who dealt the final blow. 
A whisper now and then did pass between 
And muffled was beneath their cloth-like screen — 
Was all that intei-rupted sound of tool 
On stone for hours within the damp and cool. 
Black place, which never felt the warmth of 

sun. 
But dwelt alone in that which darkness spun. 
[301] 



Soon voices, faint at first, kept drawing near 
That even filled the waiting men with fear; 
For bold enough when out in broad midday, 
And hardened by their trade to kill for pay, 
These men now felt the strength of secret's 

wile 
At hearing chants for dying 'neath that pile 
Enclosed by inky darkness, coming nigh. 
Re-echoing through passage like a sigh. 
Then many flaming torches came in view 
Which showed procession marching two by two. 
'Twas led by monks with faces hid behind 
Their cowls, with eyeholes, so they were not 

blind. 
Then came the doomed with babe upon her arm : 
She walked quite firmly and her mien was calm ; 
And last, some nuns, with features thickly 

veiled 
Before the soldiered rear guard, armed and 

mailed. 
The chanting ceased before the broken wall, 
'Round which the leaders grouped in semi-ball, 
And left the maid with face toward her bed. 
Straight to its side she quickly then was led 
By him who her accused before the king. 

"Confess thy sin e'er touch of death's sharp 

sting 
Shall send thy sinful soul to blackest hell ! 
Repent before the stones of this, thy cell, 

[302] 



Are placed again by yonder men in place 1 

So die absolved and in the light of grace." 

Thus spoke the monk behind his cowl of white, 

While all the time his anger would her blight. 

"Go hence, hard priest ! To thee I've naught 

to say; 
To God alone I will confess and pray. 
Not such as thou, nor those of thine own 

kind 
Are fit to hear the sorrows of a mind. 
This babe and I will plead before His throne, 
And thou wilt reap the harvest thou hast 

sown !" 
"Blaspheme no more, I leave thee to thy 
fate !" 
Cried out the priest, quite filled with rage and 

hate. 
He raised his arm and struck her with his cross, 
Then bade the men to build without more loss 
Of time the wall just as it used to be, 
And so fulfill the princely lord's decree. 

They set to work, with her upon the bed 
That would the maid and child with death soon 
wed. 
"Among ye nuns, who still my sisters are. 
Can one be found who will my hope not mar 
By giving me a draught before I sleep.? 
Then heaven's blessings will she ever keep?" 
These plaintive words came from behind the 
stone 

[303] 



DEC 12 1913 

Fast closing up the hole which they will own; 
But just before the last was placed, a hand 
Reached through that held a bowl with silver 

band; 
And then the dreamer saw the moonbeam bright 
Transformed into a staircase, silver-white ; 
Up which the angels bore, with joyous song. 
The mother and her babe from earthly wrong. 



[304] 



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